


Drowning in Leather and Laces

by Underestimated_amateur



Series: DILAL [1]
Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers Dino Charge
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Sex, Angst, Cause someone had to do it, Character Death, Chase is 27, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Green high heels, Guitar player Chase, Hurt/Comfort, Lingerie, M/M, Major Illness, Major character growth, Moving On, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Prostitute Riley, Riley is 22, Shelby is a friend everyone needs, Slight Age Difference, Slight Sassy Riley, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, heartbreaks, what am I doing with my life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:15:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underestimated_amateur/pseuds/Underestimated_amateur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can make it worth your while, promise." He whispers hotly into his ear, sealing the deal with a quick kiss full of tainted innocence to his neck, right under his ear lobe.</p><p>Well. Ok. Chase nods, "Hop on and hold on tight." He instructs, and the latter does as he's told, getting on and curling his arms around Chase's waist. With a strong rumble from the bike, they were off at the next green light. </p><p> </p><p>Or the story about a broken-hearted hustler meeting an equally broken-hearted guy with a leather jacket that almost ran a red light. Simple enough, yet not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Midnight Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can make it worth your while, promise." He whispers hotly into his ear, sealing the deal with a quick kiss full of tainted innocence to his neck, right under his ear lobe.
> 
> Well. Ok. Chase nods, "Hop on and hold on tight." He instructs, and the latter does as he's told, getting on and curling his arms around Chase's waist. If he had a helmet he'd would've let the blond use it. With a strong rumble from the bike, they were off at the next green light.

 

Chase sighs heavily as he makes his way to his bike with a guitar case slung tiredly over his shoulder. It had been a long night, the sun will be making its way up into the sky in only a few hours. The “night club” part of the club room starts at 8:00 pm sharp, then drags on until four o'clock in the morning. Throwing his leg over the ride, he plops himself down onto the leather seat of the cold, sleek, black metal vehicle. He slaps on his helmet and adjusts the strap of his case. Starting the bike up and knocking off the kickstand, he left the club; Midnight Ride, without taking a second glance back. He's had a terrible day and is in need to take the edge off somehow.

Chase grins as he feels the wind blow through his clothes and what little bit of dark brown hair that isn't trapped inside his helmet. He remembers owning a skateboard most of his childhood, one of his very few prized possessions. Not to mention his main way of transportation when he was a kid. Even it couldn't compare to this. Motorcycles were faster, heavier, and made his heart pound harder with adrenaline. It's like being on an entirely different level of speed, like his problems and the world couldn't keep up with him. He felt untouchable, almost dangerous. And the wind he'd zoom against felt like freedom.

Sadly, things like stop signs exist, something he momentarily forgot before almost running right through one. He comes to a screeching halt just in time, hands gripping the brake tight. Peering behind himself, he swears under his breath when he sees the dark skid marks he made on the road. Great, he's going to get himself killed before he even gets home.

"Not bad, Hotshot, for a minute I thought you'd drive right through it," comes a voice he's never heard before. 

Chase startles, whipping his head over to the stranger on his right. The young man is leaning idly against the brick wall of a building, hands casually behind his back. It's a cute dishwater blond, dressed in a white fishnet tank and black leather shorts that were higher than his mid-thigh. The only thing on him with any color is his green high heels. It isn't hard to guess what he wants.

"It's been a long day," the night rider admits, not looking away from the man in heels. There’s no car or truck behind him, so he didn't necessarily have to be any hurry. Small towns like this have nights where the city's dead and the roads are empty. The blond beauty smiles, it seems almost like a smirk, and strolls slowly over to him, his hips swaying slightly as he does.

"Maybe I could help with that?" he purrs, running a finger down his leather jacket sleeved arm. "What do you say?"

Chase looks him up and down, his gaze flickering from his lips that had an alluring plumpness to them, to his eyes. He couldn't fully make out the exact color of them, given the only lighting they have is from the street light above them. The blond looks afew years younger than him, but something in his eyes ring mature. He looks out of place here; on some corner, on a dark street, in the middle of the chill night with those kind of clothes on. Looking down at the fingers that cling to the end of his jacket sleeve, he notices the goosebumps along the young man's arm. He must be cold. Chase wonders just how long he's been out here, selling himself like he's some cheap whore. The thought irks him slightly. Why would a person do this to themselves? Being some hormone-driven, high school player is one thing, hell he's guilty of being one himself back when he was a bit younger. This is a whole new level. A pang of sadness stings at his chest. This kid must have it pretty bad.

"Well?" the blond asks again, growing impatient. He seems to be giving up on Chase agreeing and retracts his hand. Instead, he hugs himself in an attempt to return to nonchalance, but Chase can see right through him this time. He's freezing out here. Licking his dry lips, Chase meets the prostitute's eyes. 

"I'm not sure I can afford you," he says honestly. He's not exactly rich and this guy's not exactly ugly. Far from it really. It isn't dark enough for him to not be able to make out the male's⎼ not buff⎼ but nicely toned muscles, and those beautiful golden flecks in his light brown hair. While his eyes look old, his face looks young– not entirely from youth, but from what looks like natural baby face he’s still growing out of. 

"How much?" He asks before he can ask himself what the heck he's doing.

The svelte male shrugs. "For you? Mmm," he pauses, cocking his head to the side and shamelessly checking him out. "A hundred bucks; it's half of what I usually charge." 

Chase tries not to wince. That's definitely going to hurt his wallet. The other seems to notice his grimace and smiles reassuringly in a subtle, coquettish manner. He wraps his arms around Chase's neck, pressing against him. His nose brushes against his cheek in a way that has the guitar player suddenly warm all over. 

"I can make it worth your while, promise," he whispers hotly into his ear, sealing the deal with a quick kiss full of tainted innocence to his neck, right under his earlobe.

Well, fuck. Okay. Chase nods. 

"Hop on and hold on tight," he instructs. Blond Beauty does as he's told, getting on and curling his arms around Chase's waist while still being mindful of the guitar case between them. If he had another helmet he'd would've let the blond use it. With a strong rumble from the bike, they were off at the next green light.    
  
  
"Not a bad place." The blond comments as he walks through the front door after Chase, looking around the not tidy, but not messy house. It was homely in it’s own right, just not very furnished. He turns back to the man who picked him up. "Bedroom?"

"Down the hall, second door to your left," Chase replies, removing his shoes on the mat next to the door. He expects the other man to head straight to the room, but to his surprise, the blond doesn't. Instead the guest walks over to the mat as well, accidentally bumping into him as he tries to take off his right high heel. He drops the green shoe onto the mat and when he goes for the other one, Chase holds onto his arm to keep him steady without much thought to the gesture. He notices the other's chin only comes to his shoulder. The height difference they had is kind of cute, in his opinion. The dirty blond shoots him a grateful look for his help. He might have seen wrong, but Chase could've swore he saw a pink tint to the shorter male's cheeks.

Once their shoes are off, the blond gives a charming smile and hooks a finger around one of the belt loops of his dark jeans. Using it like a leash, the stunning stranger leads them through the hallway to his bedroom. After Chase closes the door behind them, he's pushed up against it. He raises an eyebrow at the culprit, but the blond devil only smirks. Reaching up to gently hold onto his neck, the blond leans forward and kisses him. Chase rest his own hands at the other's hips, closing his eyes and returning the sentiment.

The kiss starts out slow and chaste, moving at its own pace, but doesn't last long. Quickly the lip lock becomes more heated and hungry. He swallows the blond's moan when he takes pleasure in ravishing his mouth. It’s been a while, kissing someone like this, but he's done it enough before to know what to do. 

He feels the other grind against him, causing him to let out a low hiss at the friction. They maneuver to his bed. The blond beauty hits the frame of it and collapses down onto his rear, the mattress springs make him bounce slightly. Never breaking eye contact, Chase removes his leather jacket, letting it drop to the floor with a dull thud. Going at his shirt's hem, he skins that off as well, adding to the pool of clothing. He's tan and well built, and he knows it, because he doesn't hit the gym every weekend for nothing. Chase smirks when he sees the blond shiver at the view and rips off his own fishnet shirt in return. He grabs onto Chase's belt loop again and pulls him closer. Must be a thing for him. Laying a kiss to his upper stomach, he starts undoing the Chase's jeans. As he slides the pants down he leaves a trail of kisses that follows, practically nuzzling his slight happy trail. Chase lets out a pleased noise when the blond plants one right onto his growing hard on, only now covered by his thin underwear. The little devil smirks up at him, tugging on his briefs. "Tighty-whities? I'm a bit disappointed. This totally kills your whole bad boy vibe." 

Chase isn’t sure when he even tried to have a ‘bad boy vibe’, but he doesn’t comment. "I need the support," he says huskily instead, almost of a growl as his pants hit the carpet. Stepping out of his jeans that laid around his ankles, he kicks them away hastily. He captures the blond's mouth again, knocking his bedmate onto his back. He nips gently at the inviting lips that edge him on, the duo's hot breaths intermixing. Together with hungry locked lips and exploring hands, they make it to the center of the bed. The blond's head gingerly hits the pillows. Pulling away from the kiss so they both can breathe, he asks between huffs, “What’s your name?”

The other looks at him weirdly, like he’s trying to figure the man on top of him out. For a moment Chase thinks he won’t get an answer, but then the blond quietly speaks up. “Riley. My name’s Riley.”

“Riley,” he gives the name a try on his lips and finds he likes the feel of it. He smiles.

“What about you? In my mind I keep calling you Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, or Hotshot.”

Chase chuckles, feeling his ego being stroked despite himself. “Chase, and you were The Blond Male,” he admits with a cheeky grin.

Riley makes a wounded sound, as if the nickname personally offends him, but soon he burst into a fit of snicker. “Oh God, that’s terrible!”

Chase laughs with him. “There was also Blond Beauty,” he says, as if it could somehow heal Riley’s pride.

“But I’m hardly blond!” The man under him protests. “ Most of my hair is a light brown! Besides, that’s not even a nickname, it’s more of an observation.”

Chase’s smile melts into a charismatic smirk and he caresses the side of Riley’s neck. Their eyes meet. 

“Still a beauty though,” he compliments, successfully shutting the other up and making the Riley’s cheeks flare. He watches the way the blond arches his body to his hand as it slides down Riley’s frame to his crotch. When he gives the neglected area a squeeze, Riley lets out a small gasps and bucks his hips with want.

Showing some mercy, Chase undoes and strips him of the small shorts. What he finds underneath nearly makes him choke on his own spit. Because no one, not even any of the girls he’s slept with throughout his life, have worn something so frilly and lacy. Yet it somehow can handle Riley’s hard on. The erotic sight sends hot shivers straight to his groin, making his own last confinement even more uncomfortable. The owner of said green silk panties smiles smugly up at him.

“Like what you see, Hotshot?” The smug look is wiped off of his face the second Chase lays a kiss to his crotch. He makes his way to Riley's neck, sucking and kissing up his stomach and pecs, leaving in his wake little red marks that'll fade before the night is over. He makes sure to nip and run his tongue over Riley's sweetest spot under his ear.

"Yes," he breaths against the vulnerable skin. Placing a kiss to Riley’s jaw, he pulls away to take the sinful clothing off of him, sliding it down his creamy legs and flinging it somewhere around the room. He looks down at the incredibly hot sight below him. Riley’s body is flush against the bed, his lips swollen red, his cock so hard it almost looks painful, and his pupils blown with lust, need, and desire. Chase felt his own dick throb and beg to be released from his undergarments.

Riley leans up and wraps his arms around the Hotshot’s neck, kissing him eagerly, bringing him out of his thoughts. Chase groans as his naked bed partner for the night sucks on his bottom lip greedily. “Hurry up,” Riley mumbles against his mouth. 

Obeying his wishes, Chase goes ahead and takes off his remaining clothing, his hard on smacking against his lower abdomen. He reaches over to the desk beside his bed and pulls out a clear bottle of lube and a small box of condoms. Tucking the bottle of lube under him in an attempt to warm it up, he takes out a single condom package and tears the top off with his teeth. He spits the plastic part in his mouth out at the carpet. The rest of the box is dropped onto the floor carelessly. As he goes to put the thing on, Riley’s hands stop him. “Let me,” he murmurs, sitting up and placing the condom on him while his teeth roughly nibble at his neck. Looks like Riley won't be the only one with temporary marks. 

Chase moans, feeling his dick twitch in the blond’s hands. He cocks his head to the side for not only better access for Riley, but for himself as well as he runs his teeth over the other’s pulse. While his mouth works on Riley’s neck, his hands go to the blond’s ass cheeks and Riley folds against him to grant him a more firm hold. He gives them a squeeze, moving a finger to prod at the hole. The action brings forth a delightful shudder and restless moan from the other man. He grinds into Chase in response, the friction causing them both to groan out. Chase pushes him back onto his back and grabs the lubrication bottle from underneath him. 

“This is going to hurt at first,” he warns.

Riley looks at him unfazed, eager even. “I’m aware of that,” he says, spreading his legs further apart, letting Chase slide between them.

Right. Okay. Of course he would be. 

Popping the cap open, Chase squeezes some of the lube onto his fingers. He leans forward, kissing the man’s cheek as he swirls a finger around Riley’s perk hole to tease. Riley whimpers, one hand gripping the back of Chase’s neck, the other digging to the bed sheets for dear life. His breath hitches as the first finger is wiggled inside of him, then groans at the second. When Chase begins to scissor and finger him, he lets out a low moan, one Chase happily swallows in another hungry kiss. Riley rolls and bucks his hips to meet the finger fucking half way and runs his tongue over Chase’s bottom lip, demanding access. 

Chase eagerly opens up to him and they fight in an endless battle for dominance until he pulls away minutes later, leaving them both breathless. Deeming the other is ready, he slides in a third finger to stretch him further. Riley squirms a bit, grunting at the sudden addition and hissing quietly at the pain. When he feels fingers wrapping around his dick his eyes widen as another groan falls out of his mouth, head pressed to the pillow. Apparently, Chase had decided to distract him from the pain. Not that he is complaining.

Little wanton sounds leave his lips as the man strokes him and works his fingers in and out of him. Suddenly, the fingers curl and hit— 

"Oh god, _ there!  _ Do that again!" Riley whimpers and demands all at once.

Chase obliges once again, hitting Riley's little bundle of nerves. He shudders, enjoying the view of the blond beauty withering in the bed sheets under _ his  _ hands as he comes undone.

"Not... going to–" he gasps, making a soft noise of pleasure. "To last if you keep it up!" he continues to warn, feeling his balls and cock ache for release. Then, just when he's so close– so very close, the hand is taken away. He whines at the lost. "No..."

Taking his fingers out as well, Chase lines himself up and slowly starts to slide in. The blond beneath him moans and Chase grunts as he pushes all the way in, feeling his balls crash into the other man’s ass crack. 

“Oh  _ god,” _ Riley shutters in a spiral of pain, pleasure, and anticipation. They kiss again, craving and needy. Riley tangles his hands in Chase’s soft hair and massages his scalp. When Chase nips nips his bottom lip he gives a blissful hum.

“Can I move?” Chase asks, mumbling the words against the other’s lips. He gets a small nod. Pulling out briefly, slightly; till only the tip is left inside, he slams back in. Riley moans, wrapping his arms around Chase’s shoulders and legs around his waist. Their bodies grind and mold against each other as Chase begins to thrust in and out of him. “You’re tight, considering,” he grits out. “Like you're greedily swallowing my cock whole.”

Riley moans, holding onto Chase tighter. “Faster,” he orders, frantically bucking his hips upward to meet the other’s thrusts. “Harder, Hotshot.”

Chase grins in a predatory fashion and complies, picking up the pace. The bed springs bounce with them, and the frame of the bed bangs against the wall, but neither man cares at the moment. For the next several minutes the room is filled with the sounds of lewd slapping of skin, muffled grunts, and delicious moans. Chase feels Riley’s steady breathes turn more ragged on his neck and the blond clinches down more around his cock. He’s close─ they both are, Chase notes, feeling a familiar warmth spread from his stomach to groin. 

“Chase…” Riley whimpers out, clinging to him. “I’m going to─” He doesn’t get to finish.

Chase feels the other's walls spasm as Riley throws his head back with a loud moan, painting their chests with his white release. Chase soon follows suit, letting go and groaning breathlessly into Riley’s shoulder as he does. When he finally catches his breath, he pulls his now limp dick out and collapses next to the other worn out man. He rubs at his face, suddenly feeling feeling worn in the best sense of ecstasy. 

Once the blissful afterglow is over, Chase takes the condom off, ties the end, and tosses it into the wastebasket beside the bed. He takes a box of tissues off the nightstand and, pulling one out for himself, he hands the rest to Riley. 

“Thanks,” the latter says tiredly, voice raspy with sex, and starts cleaning himself up as well. Once the task is done, the box is knocked off onto the floor, along with everything else.

Chase yawns loudly, crawling into the sheets. “Your welcome,” he says. “Hey, you know mate, it’s pretty cold out. If you want you can─” 

A soft snore cuts him off. He looks over to find the younger male already asleep, collapsed flat on his back above the covers. Giving a half drowsy, half amused smile, Chase pulls the blankets out from under the sleeping blond and covers him up before settling into bed himself.    


Sleep takes him minutes later, Riley’s quiet snores lulling him into slumber.   
  
  
  
.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing this for a while. Took me months to write the first chapter namely because I haven't written sex in a long time and I don't believe I am all that great at it. Thank you; however, for reading. :)


	2. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m coming! Geez, just hold on a─” He freezes, realizing just who stood in front of him. The other seemed to have froze as well, coca brown eyes widen. Riley comes to his senses first, all but exclaiming, “You!” 
> 
> Snapping out it as well, Chase looks at him curiously. “Me?” He blinks, looking Riley over and pointing at his apron covered chest, “You.”
> 
> Riley raises a brow. “Me?”

Riley's eyes flutter open to the sun shining through the bedroom window, only to quickly shut them in tired protest. He makes an irritated noise and stretches out, curling and uncurling his toes. When he turns over, away from the stupid blinding sunlight, he notices three things. One, this isn't his room. Two, he's alone in said room. And three... he sits up and lifts up the sheets briefly before he flushes, quickly covering himself back up. Yep, he definitely is naked. He looks around at the chaos of clothes and other things on the floor and groans. Flopping down onto his back, the memories of last night are finally coming back to him.

He must have fallen asleep afterwards. Which is a first; usually after the sex and getting paid part he is long gone before the other guy has his pants back on. There wasn't a reason to stick around any longer. Running a hand through his hair, he wonders where Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome– Chase, his mind corrects him– is. As the thought crosses his mind the bedroom door opens. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. It's Chase with a mug in each hand and sweatpants that hung low at his hips. Now with better lighting, Riley can see just how attractive the man is. He's got a nice tan to him. Atop his head is well kept and trimmed, dark locks that match his hint of nice facial scruff, and his cocoa eyes crinkle when he throws a perfect dimple smile the blond’s way. Riley tries not to gawk.

The sun kissed angel holds out one of the mugs to him. "Coffee?" he offers and Riley takes it gratefully. "I hope you don't mind a ton of sugar and cream in yours."

Riley snorts, "It's the only way you can drink this stuff." Maybe he shouldn't take whatever is given to him by a stranger, but it's morning– who knows how early, he just woke up, and his butt, back, and head hurts. So yeah, coffee sounds heavenly right now, even with the potential risk of it being poisoned.

He winces when he takes a sip, not from poison, but from the burning of his mouth. However, the vanilla sweetness that floods his taste buds is enough to ignore the slight sting for now.  

"Careful, mate, it's hot." Chase teases with an amused grin, tapping the rim of his own mug.

"No kidding," he replies as he watches the other climb into bed next to him, careful not to spill any coffee, and sits crisscross. They awkwardly sip at their drinks a few moments until Riley breaks the silence.

"What time is it?"

"Uh..." Chase hands Riley his cup and reaches for his jeans on the floor that he had worn last night. He slips his phone out of the pocket and checks the time. "It's only eight in the morning," he apprises.

The other groans, "I have to go to work in a few hours."

Chase watches the blonde's features twist into something of a pout. He holds back a snort and thinks, 'Cute,’ before putting his cell on charge and stealing his mug back.

"Where do you work?" he asks, making small talk. He takes a small swing of his coffee while Riley sips at his.

"At this little cafe inside the Amber Beach Museum. How about you, what do you do for a living?" He throws out, a bit curious. It’s been a while since he was able to simple talk to a client. A lot of people he comes across are creeps or lonely souls looking for someone to share their bed for the night, but sometimes, he finds real interesting ones that aren’t searching for or panting after anything.

"I play guitar at a nightclub downtown; Midnight Ride. Pay's nice and it's pretty fun. On the days I’m not at the club, I watch over an antique shop an old friend of mine owns. A bit boring of a place, but I don't mind." Chase says, finishing off his coffee and setting the empty mug onto the desk next to him.

Riley nods and looks around the room once more. It wasn't exactly tidy, but definitely not messy either. It gave off the air of a grown man who was secretly still a kid, in a way, and had a─ not quite goth but classic─ black scheme to it. A skateboard mounted on the wall catches his eye next, or more over, the small chick like bird painted on the top of it.

"Oh, that's my skateboard I got when I was younger. My dad got it for me when I was little– 'think I was nine? Thing's never left my side since." The man beside him explains, having caught him staring. He looks over at Chase, who seems a bit flustered about the whole thing.

"What kind of bird is that?" he asks.

"It's a Kiwi, my country's bird,” Chase smiles, “I'm all the way from New Zealand, mate."

"I grew up on a farm, mate," the blond says blankly. It sounds like it’s meant as a joke, so Chase openly laughs. Seconds later, Riley chuckles alongside him.

"That's pretty cool."

"Not really. Unless you believe fixing pig pens and shoveling horse poop is cool," Riley quips. Chase snorts at him, but shakes his head no.

The conversation branches off from there into different topics. Chase talks more about his job, this new restaurant he’s taking a liking to, and he even ends up mentioning his little sister; Chloe. Riley, as it turns out, isn’t an only child either; having an older brother himself. Unlike Chase, the blond isn’t too thrilled with his job as a busboy, but jobs are too hard to come by right now to quit.

“It isn’t all bad, though,” he reluctantly admits. “I still got Shelby there too. She’s one of my best friends I met back in high school. She’s actually the one who helped me get the job the first place.”

Neither of them realize how long they have been talking until Riley's phone goes off. It must be a friend from work, he guesses from what little of the conversation he can hear. The voice from the other side starts scolding him on being late and informing him they can’t cover for him forever, demanding he gets there now. Riley hastily hangs up after a quick, “Okay, thanks. Bye.”

He flies out of bed and practically throws on his clothes in a matter of minutes. Chase watches him, slightly amused at the show. He’s never seen someone get dressed so fast. Before the other leaves, he gives him the money he owes. Riley almost smiles as he takes it. Shoving the cash into his back pocket and grabs his shoes off the floor. He doesn’t bother slipping them on, seeming to be content with simply carrying them at his side.

"Wait!" The New Zealander calls out as the other was about to all but run out of the room. Riley stops, doorknob in hand, and looks over his shoulder at him.

"Will I ever see you again?" He asks, feeling stupid for doing such a thing.

Riley falters, hesitating. It’s silly, but Chase feels his shoulders start to slump against his will.

But then Riley smiles, "You know where I am if you want to find me."

And then he's off.

 

“You’re late.” Is the first thing Shelby says when he sees her. Her dark hair is pulled into a messy ponytail, there’s a frown on her face, and her hands rest on her hips. He grimaces, she looks like a wreck. It must have been a tough morning for her without him here. There’s only three workers in the cafe including them, and Tyler doesn’t come in until noon. 

“So you’ve told me on the phone’” he recalls, patting his pocket to make sure he didn’t leave his keys in the ignition of his green moped. Because while a dorky thing it is, it’s all he has. Which, technically, it isn’t even his; he’s been borrowing it from Matt for two years now. His older brother was kind enough to let him use it while he needs it. He’ll pay Matt back some day, somehow, he promised himself. 

He gives the girl in front of him a sheepish smile at her glare and offers, “Which is why I’m going to cover for you so you can have lunch with Tyler?” 

“Yes, you are. For the next couple of days.”

“Two days.”

“Three days.”

He sighs, knowing that’s as good as he’ll get. “Three days. Deal.”

She smiles in satisfaction and turns away, heading for the back. “Good, and tell me how good this one was later, okay?” 

Riley’s eyes widen and he feels his cheek burn. “I didn’t─ how did you─ Shelby!” He whispers loudly, trailing after her. 

She only laughs and walks through the door to the kitchen. “Please, Ri, you’re practically glowing from sex.” She cackles harder when she hears his groan, the sadistic witch.    
“But I took a shower before I got here!” he protests.

“Still glowing!” 

He sighs and rolls his eyes, following her in and grabs his apron off one of the hooks next to the door. Slipping it on over his head he ties the strings around his waist. The second he’s done two plates are shoved into his hands. 

“Table five, go,” Shelby orders him, shooing him out of the kitchen. 

“Yes Ma’am,” he quips, trudging through the layout of tables and booths to number five. 

“Here are your orders,” he announces, setting the plates down one by one in front of the man and woman. They blink down at their plates in confusion then smile as they look over at each other’s meals. They laugh, switching around the plates between them. Reaching over the wooden tabletop, the man grabs the woman’s hand softly, silently showing off their matching diamond rings. She looks up and shares a fond, endearing smile with him. Something in the mood around them shifts; it’s suddenly like the two are in their own little world, Riley might as well be invisible. Growing extremely uncomfortable, said waiter frowns and edges away from the table. 

“Let me know if you need anything else,” he mumbles before walking away.

When he moves to around the counter and stands at the register, he hears a dreamy sigh behind him. He turns and raises an eyebrow at Shelby, who’s at the large kitchen window behind him.

“Aren’t they cute? I think they just married.” She says, smiling a faraway smile with her chin resting on her fist that’s perched on the windowsill and a food bag in the other hand.

Riley huffs and snatches the greasy bag from her, “Don’t you have fries to boil or something?” He turns and hands it off to the man in front of the counter who’s waiting for said meal. Any other person would’ve gotten mad or glared at him, but Shelby just rolls her chocolate sweet eyes, looking at him unimpressed. 

“And don’t you have some table to wipe? Get to it, Busboy.” She jibes before leaving him behind so she can man the grill.

With a frown, he goes to do just that. They don’t have a co-manager here, just they’re manager, Ms. Morgan, who also happens to be the museum's director. Though, the way Shelby acts, Riley wonders if someone ever told her that. Despite how annoying it may be with her daily commands, he can’t deny that Shelby is able to keep everyone in line and still stay on top of her own tasks. Plus, without her and Tyler he knows he would never be able to stand this job.  

Even though Shelby and the director didn’t get along, they were pretty similar in character in some ways. A lot like Shelby, Ms. Morgan is a self-reassured type of woman that expected respect. She always shows up each day in a clean suit, thick violet framed glasses, and her brown hair in a neat ponytail, never a single hair out of place. She manages to somehow stay on top of everything and took care of problems before they became a nuisance. It is a lot to handle, but she had yet to fail not to handle it, as far as Riley knew. 

A sigh of frustration leaves him as he discovers what table two left him. Sadly, not a tip in sight, but some kid left their ice cream cone in their booster seat, the strawberry treat already half melted all over the child’s seat. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbles, leaving to get a wet rag. Stupid brats and their irresponsible no tip leaving parents. If he ever dared to act like that when he was younger his ma would’ve made him spend the entire day fixing wooden fences, and cleaning the stables and the chicken coop! As he began to wipe down the booster seat and, after having it cleared off, the table, he told himself it wasn’t so bad. At least it wasn’t his turn to clean the latrines this week.    
  


The day isn’t too hard until six ‘o'clock rolls around. Tyler, who had arrived hours prior, usually has his lunch at the time, and since their little compromise, inevitably so did Shelby for the next few days. Thankfully, it was also the time people start to leave as well. So it’s when he’s cleaning up the kitchen, did he get a surprise by the dinging sound of the small bell at the register. When it dinges again, he realizes he didn’t imagine it. By the third one, he curses under his breath and rushes out of the kitchen and to the cash register. 

“I’m coming! Geez, just hold on a─” He freezes, realizing just who stood in front of him. The other seemed to have froze as well, coca brown eyes widen. Riley comes to his senses first, all but exclaiming, “You!”

Snapping out it as well, Chase looks at him curiously. “Me?” He blinks, looking Riley over and pointing at his apron covered chest, “You.” 

Riley raises a brow. “Me?” Shaking his head of the nonsense to their greeting, he frowns, “What are you doing here?” 

Chase’s confusion doesn’t leave his face as he pulls out his wallet. “To order food?” 

Riley crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah, right. You want to order food. Here. At a restaurant inside a museum. The very museum I just happen to have told you I work at. Of course.” He drawls sarcastically. 

Chase frowns for a small moment before it dawns on him what the other was getting at. He laughs, visually relaxing, “Oh, I see what you’re getting at.”

“When I said, ‘You know where to find me’, I didn’t mean _ here.” _ The blonde chides. 

Chase; though, all but smiles, holding his hands up in an ‘I-mean-you-no-harm’ manner and replies, “I just want food, honest, that’s the only reason I’m here. This is just the only place to get a Bronto Burger and I owe one to a friend who can’t drive.”

Riley continues to look suspicious. Honestly, in his opinion, the man’s story is sketchy at best. “Really, that’s it?” 

“Yeah bro,” the kiwi nods. “The guy loves this stuff. Besides, I kind of forgot you even worked here.” 

Riley didn’t completely buy his story, but lets it sly in favor of asking for the man’s order. When he’s got the meal rung up and paid for, he leaves Chase standing there to go make his order. Once everything is set, he hands the bag off to the customer. “Here you go.” 

Chase takes it gratefully with a nod. “Thanks. And uh, hey, I’m sorry about this morning,” he apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with a guilty smile. 

Riley cocks a brow in confusion, “What happened this morning that you feel the need to apologize for?”

“Right after you left I realized that I was the one that drove us back to my place. I should have at least offered you a ride home.” He shuffles slightly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You shouldn’t have had to walk home in, uhm,” he clears his throat, feeling his cheeks burn. 

Riley blinks at him, taken back by his confession, before he snorts unattractively. Then he practically burst into soft laughter, unable to hold it in. At Chase’s look of bewilderment and what may be a little hurt, he shakes his head, holding a hand up to say, ‘hang on.’ When he calms down enough he smiles, the first real one all day instead of the ones a waiter has to use. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just, you’re a strange one, you know? No one I’ve slept with like this has ever asked me for a ride home, but─ thanks. That’s really nice of you actually.”

Chase grins, “Nice enough to get your number?” 

Riley rolls his eyes, but he’s biting his lip to keep from smiling. “Keep dreaming, Hotshot.”   
  
After his shift, it’s back to the streets on the same shady corner under the old street lamp for Riley. His regular faded jeans and green polo were now replaced for a more appropriate─ or in this case, more inappropriate─ attire. He only hopes his tight, black, leather pants and a white lace crop top, that’s short enough to show off the peak of his toned stomach, goes well with the same pair of green high heels he wears almost every night when he’s out on the streets. He hears the screeching of tires stopping in front of him. He can’t help it; how his lips tug upward on his face as he looks up to the vehicle. His smile vanishes the second he realizes it’s not a black motorcycle, but an old, rusty pickup truck that’s pulled over on side of the street. The truck window rolls down and Riley gets to see the older man inside. Taking out the cigarette in his mouth, the man’s eyes prawl over his body like a hungry animal finding a piece of meat. 

“How much?” Is all he asks.  
  
Riley feels any warmth he had in his stomach leave him, but he puts on his best smile for show and strolls over to the truck, crossing his arms and laying them against the cold vehicle. 

“How much do you think I’m worth?” he cooes huskily. It’s a tactical move, letting the customer decide the price, but sometimes it works wonderfully for him.

“Three hundred, ain’t going any lower.”

Like now. That’s a hundred more than his usual price.

He nods, opens the door and climbs in, making sure to buckle up. It only takes about thirty minutes to get to their supposed destination. The cheap hotel isn’t too far out of his way, much to Riley’s relief. He gets antsy when customers try to go too far away from his side of town. 

“Out,” the man grunts, and Riley complies. As soon as he steps inside and the door closes, the man is on him. They don’t kiss, the older man doesn’t seem to want to, but letting the stranger feel him up while he sucks on his neck seems to be on tonight's agenda. Before the two of them even make it to the bedroom, Riley already feels the man slide his black laced thong down his thighs. 

He’s thrown onto the bed, the man crawling on top of him. The man grabs a half empty bottle of lube underneath his pillow, spurting some into his hand. Tossing the bottle to the side, he then slides his hand lower to both their cocks. He grips the flesh, jerking them off and coating them with the lube in his hand. Riley groans with him, turning his face away and trying to ignore the gross, hot breath the man pants against his neck. They rut against each other, Riley struggling to keep up with the man’s brutal pace. 

When they’re coming close to their end, the man stops. He pulls away a bit, trying to catch his breath. As Riley cracks a eye open to see what is with the sudden mood change, he’s slung around onto his stomach, head-down-ass-up style. The customer doesn’t say anything to him, but at least takes a good minute or two to prepare him. The burn hurts, but he bucks his hips against the invasion anyway. Sooner than Riley would like, the guy takes his fingers out and the sound of a condom ripping open is loud in the otherwise quiet room. At least this one wants to use a condom, Riley reasons with himself as he lays there. Sometimes that’s not always the case. When situations like those arise, Riley usually has about a few seconds to decide if the money offered at the time is worth the risk.

As the man slides into his puckered hole, he grips his dirty blonde locks tightly. Before Riley can truly adjust to the guy’s size, the said man starts to move, ignoring his small whimper of pain. The man thrust into him hard, never touching him besides his hair and hole. It doesn’t take long for the man above him to climax, he hears the other groan loudly as he cums.

Then everything dulls. He pulls out and it’s finally over. The customer flops himself on the empty side of the bed and looks around for a few certain things on the floor. From his coat pocket, he pulls out another cigarette and his wallet. The box of cigs is almost empty, he notices as he lays there, trying to recollect himself. The man must be an addict. He’s going through a hard time as well, Riley can tell. He’s seen enough people in his work to spot a person who’s ready to fall apart.

His eyes flicker to the cross above the bed to the wedding ring on the guy’s dresser. Ah, he thinks he’s starting to piece everything together. Despite everything, he almost feels sorry for the stranger. It must be hard, having unfair expectations to fill.  

Lighting the death stick, the man tosses him a wad of cash and snaps him out of his analyzing.

“Now get out,” he man grumbles with a deep scowl and a hazy look in his eyes.

Looking over the money, Riley counts it to make sure it’s the right amount. It is, so he no longer has a reason to be here. The man’s problems aren’t his own. Ignoring his hard on─ the man only cared about his own pleasure─ he slips on his clothes and leaves. 

He didn’t go back to the street corner that night. As he walks home, he goes through the motions in his mind. He tells himself it’s over for tonight. He tells himself he is okay. He tells himself it’s for a good cause. It’ll help her─ help  _ them. _ He tells himself he needs to do this. He pretends he never saw that man. He pretends not to know the man at all. 

He pretends he didn’t serve the man food today at table five.    
  
  


Chase said his goodbyes to Koda and his little brother, Taku, as he straps his helmet on and swings his leg over his bike that was parked in his friend’s driveway. From the door, Koda, a strong gentle looking man with a dopey smile, waves happily next to a similar preteen who shares a wave and soft smile of his own. 

Chase grins, having completed his small task of bringing them the bag of food, and gives the family a solute before backing out of the driveway. The rushing wind welcomes him when he finally takes off, greeting him with a cool breeze brushing against him as he rides. The engine roars as he gets onto the main road. There isn’t many cars out at night, something he very much appreciates. As he drives through the relaxing night, his thoughts drift elsewhere. He thinks of dark but soft blond hair, pretty green eyes with flecks of gold, and skin that had ghost kissed by the sun. His mind flashes the memory of the faintest freckles, almost completely unable to spot unless you really look, and sinful, pretty, pink, lips he could taste hours after kissing, and─

A bright red blob makes him jolt out of his thoughts and quietly squeeze on the brakes. He just barely misses the stop sign. That’s twice in one week, how has he not gotten a ticket yet? He takes a deep breath, recollecting himself. Looking around, he realizes what he’s done. He’s back at the same street corner he was at yesterday. Except there’s one major difference; no blonde beauty. Either the other wasn’t out today or had already been picked up. Chase groans. He didn’t even mean to come here, he just unintentionally let his subconscious lead him astray. Deciding he’s just wasting time, he continues his drive home. 

And he didn’t look in his rearview mirrors back at a certain street corner, not even once. Just like how sharp but warm green eyes didn’t consume his thoughts the entire drive. 

No, definitely not.    
  
  
  
.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is it so far? Sassy Riley and cutie-pie Chase is such a guilty pleasure. They, and the rest of the characters, aren't mine. It wouldn't be a kid show if it was. Thanks for reading! :)


	3. This Ain't My First Rodeo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Will I be seeing you tomorrow?” He inquires, leaning on the counter casually with a raised eyebrow.
> 
> Chase meets his eyes, smiling as he leans forward ever so slightly, inches away from the blond. “Or maybe I could wait a few more minutes until you get off of work and we’ll be… seeing a lot of each other tonight?” He offers, smile turning more of a smirk.
> 
> Riley huffs in laughter, looking more amused than anything. “Is that supposed to be seductive?”
> 
> “Did it work?”
> 
>  
> 
> “Give me ten minutes, Hotshot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The whole chapter is technically in third person, but the very first part is more in Riley’s point of view, then it kinda switches to Chase's.)

 

“Am I going to have to get a restraining order for stalking?” 

Accusing green eyes flicker to the man in the leather jacket across the counter as he hands over the correct change. Said man all but gives a dashing smile as he pockets the dollar-fifty. “It’s not stalking if I actual buy food here, is it? Besides, maybe I’m just here for the fries.”

Riley rolls his eyes, refusing to look as amused as he feels. He turns and places the written order down on the kitchen counter behind him, calling what’s written out to Tyler who’s at the grill. Chase had shown up minutes before Riley’s shift ends, all smiles and charm. It wasn’t as much as a surprise as it had been weeks ago when he first strolled in the small establishment. After that, he comes every day or so.

When the order is ready, Riley hands the bag off to the kiwi. Which is another thing he’s noticed besides the fact he always orders the same meal; he always has the food to go. And he really doesn’t pull anything underhanded or creepy, never mind the obvious flirting─ that simply seems to come natural to the kiwi dressed in his signature leather jacket.

“Will I be seeing you tomorrow?” He inquires, leaning on the counter casually with a raised eyebrow.

Chase meets his eyes, smiling as he leans forward ever so slightly, inches from the blonde and he does something for the first time. “Or maybe I could wait a few more minutes until you get off of work and we could be…  _ seeing  _ a lot of each other tonight?” He offers, smile turning more of a smirk. It’s the first move he’s ever made a move toward him at his work, which he’ll thankfully get to leave from in a few minutes anyways. There’s a cockiness to Chase’s sly smile, but his eyes are a soft brown, letting him know it’s ok if he says no.

Riley huffs in laughter, looking more amused than anything. “Is that supposed to be seductive?”

“Did it work?”

“Give me ten minutes, Hotshot.”

  
  
They don’t head to his place straight away. “Need to drop this off first.” He had told the blond, waving the food bag in the air before handing it to him so he could drive. When they both are secured on the black metal bike, Riley puts the bag between them to save its heat and wraps his arms around the driver’s waist. The bag is warm against his back and, probably to just to be a little cheeky, he feels Riley rest his lips against the skin where his shoulder mets his neck. Chase doesn’t complain though. As the engine roars and the cycle comes to life, they take off.

It only takes a few minutes to deliver the food to Koda and his brother. Riley insists on staying by the bike as he trudges to the door. He receives another hug (Koda’s a touchy-feely person) and an invitation to hang out when he isn’t busy. Chase of course accepts and tells the other he’ll let him know the first time he’s free, leaving with a wave and, “‘Night, mate. Take care.”

Riley doesn’t say anything when he gets back, but Chase does notice how, when they’re driving away, he presses up against him more without the bag in the way.  

  
They don’t kiss the very second they get through the door. First there’s the whole show of taking their shoes off at the mat. It’s the first time the other is slipping off sneakers instead of heels. He offers Riley something to drink, but the blond politely turns him down. So he smiles amorously and takes a hold of the other’s hand, leading him to the bedroom while hardly ever breaking eye contact. He enjoys the way he sees the soft green eyes darken and pupils dilate. This time he’s gently pushed onto the bed, where he sits and takes in the show the other puts on as Riley takes his polo off, followed by his dark jeans, revealing toned muscles, warm skin, and a dirty blond happy trail.

_ 'The curtain matches the drapes,’ _ he muses. His boxers hung low at his hips, Chase instantly notices, his hungry eyes running over the male’s V-line.

Riley smirks and straddles him, lips meeting lips and hands sliding up his clothed chest to his shoulders. He nibbles on the other’s bottom lip as he slides the kiwi’s leather jacket off of him and tosses it aside onto the floor. Next goes the shirt, leaving another bare chest in its wake. Making sure to keep eye contact with a pair of deep browns, Riley pushes the other down onto his back and kisses the tan skin of Chase’s stomach. Nibbling against his ribcage, he undoes the dark jeans and Chase lifts his hips up to help him slide the clothing off. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, Riley pulls him into a heated, teeth scraping, lip sucking, kiss. Chase purposely bucks his hips up, grinding his crotch upwards against the blond’s. They pull away from the kiss to share a breathless moan. He grins, gripping Riley’s thighs firmly enough to pick him up slightly and moving them around. Brownish blond locks gently hit the pillows as their owner stares up at him expectantly. Chase smirks, sneaking another kiss before angling himself to better hover over the other, a leg between each set of thighs.

Riley raises a brow, “Chase?”

“I want to try something.” He murmurs, kissing his warm neck. He then rolls his hips, causing a pleasurable friction between them that makes the male below him whimper. They're both half hard if the tents in the underwear have anything to say about it. Chase grunts when Riley rocks his hips back in response.

“Oh,” he smirks, and there’s a new gleam to his green eyes, “I know what you’re doing.” They buck against each other again. And again. And again. Minutes later they’re picking up speed and crashing together harder in a pace only horny virgins and sex deprived people go.

Chase moves against him, grinding. Riley does the same, following his rhythm. He lets out a choked mewl as Chase kisses and nips at his neck. His hands grab at the kiwi’s back, unable to find anything else to hold onto other than the sheets.

_ “Chase,” _ he pleads. For what, Chase isn’t sure, but he’ll give it to him. He’ll give Riley anything as long as he keeps saying his name like that. Grabbing onto the dirty blond’s desperate hands, he holds them down above their heads, intertwining their fingers as they continue to move against each other. The new intense friction brings sweet little noises from the country boy below him. Chase groans into Riley’s neck, his lips vibrating on the beautiful skin, as they hungrily dry hump each other. Riley starts to thrust back harder, more desperate and demanding. He squeezes Chase’s hands tighter, knuckles almost turning white, in a way to let him know he’s close.

As Chase goes to pull away, not wanting to end their night so soon, Riley lips curl downward in disapproval and he wraps his legs around the man’s tan waist to stop him from getting too far away. Chase grins and has to fight down a laugh. God, this guy was so fucking adorable. He kisses the younger man’s temple in an apology. “Gotta get the lube and frenchie, Sweetheart.”

Riley cocks a brow, “French─?”

“Condom. I mean condom. Now let me  _ get them. _ ”

The blond beauty huffs, but lets him go. As Chase moves to retrieve what they need, Riley decides he’s had enough of not being completely naked yet and works to fix this problem by removing his underwear and toeing his socks off. He spreads his legs; an open invitation, one that Chase happily takes after slipping off the rest of his clothes as well. As he tears open another condom, he asks, “This there anything specific you want to do tonight, Luv?”

Riley seems to startle out of whatever lust-crazed haze he had been in, looking at Chase in confusion. “What?”

“What do you want to do?” He repeats the question, pressing lips the the other’s neck and starts leaving a trail of butterfly kisses down his neck.

“We could do it like this,” he offers, nipping at his shoulder. He hooks his hands around the folds of Riley’s legs, lifting them forward, and Riley knows his pretty flexible, the way his thighs touch his chest is proof enough. The blonde feels the shiver that travels down his spine. Chase drops his legs, resting his hands on the man below him’s hips.

“Or,” he whispers, hot breath tickling skin and making goosebumps, “we could turn you around, get you on your hands and knees, and I could fuck you like that.” He dips his head down and nips at one of the vulnerable collarbones on display. Riley’s breath hitches and he bites his lip. Chase lets out of huff of a laugh, moving back up to the other’s ear. He shamelessly nibbles on the shell.

“I’d let you fuck me even, if you wanted.” A smirk curls at his lips as he feels Riley try not to squirm beneath him and enjoys the flush of the blond’s body. “Just tell me what you want.”

Riley swallows, looking up at him. “What I want?” He’s answere d with an, ‘Mmhmm.’

Brows furrowed, he looks away in thought. What he wants. He mulls over the offer in his head and studies the definement of Chase’s stoma ch, pecs, and shoulders. It only takes him a minute to decide.

“I want to ride you,” he announces, grabbing onto the male and rolling them over. He makes himself comfortable, moving his legs forward and spread apart while resting his back against Chase’s legs the kiwi had propped up for him. He bites his lip again, feeling the older man’s hard thick erection pressed against his ass crack. The New Zealander has a clear view of what lies between the other’s spread thighs and he grins an intoxicated, filthy kind of smile.

“Like a true cowboy,” he comments, and gets a pointed look for his teasing. He hands over a small bottle of lube and Riley takes it, squeezing some of the cool liquid onto his fingers. Reaching down, he hisses as he wiggles a finger inside of himself.  

Set on being a distraction, Chase takes a few squirts of the clear lubrication for himself and gives Riley’s cock a slow pump. He was a decent size, and had a creamy brown to him with a cute, soft pink tip. Absentmindedly, he rubs his thumb over the head before moving downward. Continuing his unhurried pace, he pumps and gives an occasional gentle twist or pull. Riley moans and stares down at Chase's efforts while he finger-fucks himself on the  man's lap.

Chase watches the blond slide another digit inside him, making it three. He smirks, starting to realize how eager the other is tonight. Not that he’s complaining. Oh no, definitely not.  

When Riley seems satisfied enough, he slips his fingers out and lines himself up with Chase’s hard dick. Words like, ‘Be careful’ or ‘Don’t hurt yourself’ die in his throat as he completely enters the man above him. Riley’s hole is still as tight as ever and just as warm and greedy. Chase groans with the mess of the blond while they both try to get used to the feeling of them being fitted together like this all over again.

“Jesus, Riley.”

“Chase!”

Their breaths hitch when Riley leans forward and rises up on his dick then leans back and slams himself back onto it.

“You’ve,” he starts, exhaling hot air. “You’ve done this before,” he accuses with a grunt, his fingers digging into the hustler’s hips.

Riley smirks and kisses his jaw. He begins to rock his hips to and fro, loving the way it brings out a groan from the kiwi below. "You tell me," he teases, moaning when he hits that special spot.

Chase grins and bucks his hips to meet Riley's pace. Soon, the rhythm of his stroking becomes in tune to their thrusts and he gladly watches the blond become further undone. Though, now he hardly looks blond; his hair darken slightly with sweat. His breaths are heavy and the noises that fall from his lips are loud and shameless. The kiwi watches the way his muscles flex slightly every time he picks himself up to thrust down onto Chase.

Well. No one can say he's never worked for it.

"Chase!" Riley closes his eyes, throws his head back, and shutters. It's the only warning he gets for the man is cumming all over himself and Chase's hand.

"Fuck, that's hot." Chase swears, before releasing his own load as well. Riley whimpers, feeling the other's orgasm even with the condom on. He then sighs deeply, trying to catch his breath in the afterglow. Chase takes his wrist and pulls him forward so he's laying completely over him. Gripping Riley's hips, he pulls the guy off his now limp dick. The other just grunts and rolls over to lay next to him. He just shakes his head with a smile and slips the condom off, tying the end before tossing it into the waste bucket next to the bed.

Worn out and full of bliss, Chase sighs wistfully and closes his eyes. He's about to zone off when someone suddenly smacks his stomach. He groans, cracking an eye open at the warm body next to him.

"You're my ride home," comes an equally sleepy voice.

He huffs, reclosing his eyes. "I'm tired, I'll take you home in the morning."

"I also still need payment." The other grumbles.

"In the morning," he stresses, verbally waving the topic off.

Riley was already asleep before he could respond. Chase grins stupidly, practically out of it himself.

He knows he's won.

  
  
  


. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frenchie: Condom
> 
> Luv: It's just a New Zealand term of endearment. Whenever I see it, it's always spelled like that. :/
> 
> Sorry for the late update, but here's chapter three guys!


	4. You Misunderstand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So all you ever did growing up was wake up early, feed chickens, and ride horses?” He asks.
> 
> The other grunts and squirms slightly to get more comfortable. “I did other things too. Other not cowboy things.”
> 
> “Like?”
> 
> “I played Little League. Then practiced fencing when I was older.” He recalls, and Chase raises an eyebrow at him.
> 
> “That’s actually surprisingly… athletic. I kinda thought you’d be more of a nerd.” He says with a teasing smile, only to receive a kick to the shin.
> 
> The blonde frowns again and he can deny it, but Chase can feel he’s pouting against his chest.

Riley groans before he opens his eyes, annoyed that he’s woken up. Soft snickering is heard behind him, probably to his torture. The green eyed man frowns and rolls over, facing the other man beside him on the bed. “What’s so funny?” He asks, squinting his eyes in warning. The other just shakes his head and shrugs. Yawning, Riley rubs his eyes and stretches without getting up, like some house cat. Chase snorts, snarking, “Are you always this lazy in the morning?”

The younger of the two huffs, closing his eyes and burying his face into the pillows. “I go to bed later, so it only makes sense to wake up later to get the recommended healthy amount of sleep,” he muffles another yawn. “Plus, I just like to sleep in when I can now that I no longer have to get up before the sun.” He mumbles into the bed cushions, referring to his life on the farm.

“Or I just wore you out last night,” Chase smirks.

Instead of agreeing or disagreeing, Riley only hums. He reaches over and blindly grabs at his jeans. Once he finds the clothing on the floor next to the bed, he takes out his phone and checks the time. Face scrunching up in a frown, he drops the pants and the phone, letting the jeans cushion the device’s fall. Turning back over, the blond scoots closer to the naked body next to him to steal the man’s warmth. “Who around here wakes at six ‘o'clock?” He grumbles.

Chase, who looks nothing but amused by his complaining, only smiles and wraps an arm around him. When Riley tucks his face against his shoulder and nape, he rests his chin on top the blonde’s soft locks. “Didn’t you just say you used to wake up around that time?” He jibs.

“No, I said I use to wake up before the sun.” He shoots back, then under his breath mutters, ‘Always hated being a cowboy’ or something, Chase couldn’t completely hear him. The kiwi bites his lip, but it does nothing in the attempt to hide his smile.

“So all you ever did growing up was wake up early, feed chickens, and ride horses?” He asks.

The other grunts and squirms slightly to get more comfortable. “I did other things too. Other not cowboy things.”

“Like?”

“I played Little League. Then practiced fencing when I was older.” He recalls, and Chase raises an eyebrow at him.

“That’s actually surprisingly… athletic. I kinda thought you’d be more of a nerd.” He says with a teasing smile, only to receive a kick to the shin.

The blond frowns again and he can deny it, but Chase can feel he’s pouting against his chest. Riley’s silent for a moment, taking in the softness of the sheets and the other man’s body heat, before he admits, “I always had a thing for puzzles and trivia. While other kids liked video games, cars, and explosions, I could just sit around all day and try to solve a one thousand piece puzzle or rubik's cube. I also might have been a member of the Trigonomics Club in high school and won a trophy for Best Chess Player in middle school. Not to mention I’ve had straight A's practically my entire life. Could’ve gone to college, I guess, I had a full ride with a large scholarship.”

Chase snorts at ‘Trigonomics Club’ and ‘chess player’, but then his smile fades. He pulls away from the other to look into Riley’s eyes, confused and shocked all at once. “Wait, really? You got A's for that long and had that big of a scholarship?”

“Yeah?” Riley frowns, and this time it’s not light or playful, like the ones he uses when he tries not to smile or show he’s excited or amused. This one is calculating, sharp, like he’s analyzing every twitch of Chase’s face, every flicker in his eyes. It’s both hot and unnerving at the same time. “What, you didn’t think some stupid redneck could get a degree?” He challenges.

Chase shakes his head, still a bit bewildered. “No that’s not it. Jesus mate, I figured you were smart, but I didn’t─ Riley what are you doing here then? You’re practically a genius. You could’ve gone to college. You could be anything you wanted and you choose to spend your life in some burger joint. For what? Five bucks an hour?”

“Seven, about sixteen with tips.” The male whispers as he pulls away completely, sitting up and looking away.

Chase sits up as well, an expression of disbelief and sympathy on his face. His voice more quiet, “And then you go out on that corner at night. Risk getting into a stranger’s car, risk getting into a stranger’s bed.”

“You didn’t seem to mind when I was in your bed!” Riley suddenly snaps, giving him a hard look. “It’s my choice, not yours. Don’t start with the ‘You’re better than this, this is wrong’ speech, I’ve heard it enough.” He bites, a warning tone in his voice. Chase sighs and reluctantly nods his head. Riley’s shoulders relaxes slightly and he slowly lays back down. Chase tries to ignore the space between them now as he does the same. It’s hard sometimes, he’s learned, playing this sort of hot and cold game with Riley. One moment they're fine the next they're not. He supposes, though, that their whole relationship is weird. He’s never slept with prostitutes before, hardly ever messed around with guys in general, but he doesn’t think this is what it’s usually like. Sleeping with a prostitute isn’t typically like this. Right?

So they're a rare case, which is fine, he can handle it. He’s not very good with relationships anyway, and honestly, he doesn’t remember enjoying himself with someone in a long time, not since… her. He just wishes it was easier to figure out what goes on in Riley’s pretty little blond head sometimes. With those thoughts still spiraling around inside his brain, he looks over at the man in his bed, turning on his side to face him. Absentmindedly, he stares at the other’s back, counting the tiny freckles he can see. He decides he likes the one that lays on the blonde’s right shoulder blade the most.

“I’ve never been good in school.” He says, cutting the silence in the air in half. “I was considered lucky to ever just get a C. My dad used to pretend to care, he’d give me a slap on the wrist and scold me, yeah, but it was kinda obvious it wasn’t really his concern. My mom would give me her sad mom eyes and pull the, ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ line. I might of had the class clown title growing up, the whole acting out for attention kind of thing. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about my grades, not completely, it’s just I never could sit down and focus long enough to understand the lessons. No one ever worked with me on it at home or at school,” he sighs, “It’s just, I never had the opportunities you had mate, you know? My folks just hoped I’d graduate high school, little lone college. I guess that might be why I don’t understand why you wouldn’t ‘go the distance’ or however they put it now. But hey, you don’t want to go? Don’t go. You can be whatever you want... just know you could be more than this. I don’t really know for sure, but I don’t think you like doing this every night." He hesitates before adding, "I just want you to be happy.”

The second Chase finishes, he regrets it, because Riley is jerking the covers off of himself and getting up.

“Riley, wait─” He starts, wondering where he officially has cross some line.

“Stop.” The other cuts him off as he pulls his boxers up his thighs, then hastily puts his jeans on. He doesn’t even have them button before turning around, rubbing tiredly at his face. “I think you’re misunderstanding a few things, I need you to understand what this is.” He states, looking up at Chase and pointing a finger at himself. “I’m a prostitute. I agree to have some sort of sexual activity in exchange for pay, usually at a high price.” He points to Chase. “You are my client, my customer, whatever the term you wish to use. There is no intimacy or feelings involved, it’s illogical to get attached. This doesn’t work like that, you can’t have relationships or anything of the sort. Don’t fall in love.”

Chase watches his face as he speaks, noticing how the more he says the more he has a far away look in his eyes. When Riley goes silent, he isn’t sure who he was talking to anymore. He doesn’t like the silence, it’s too heavy and suffocating, so he fills it. “I agree and all, but why not?”

His words seem to snap the other out of it. Riley stares at him like he’s crazy. “What?”

“Why can’t you have a relationship? Sure maybe your uh, night job might be a issue, but that doesn’t have to be a deal breaker. And I hate to burst your bubble, but you can’t control who you fall for, mate. Still bro, you mean to tell me you’re never lonely? You’ve never wanted more?”

For a moment, Riley just stares at him, like he’s really seeing him for the first time. Chase stares back, warm brown on beautiful green. Then Riley is ducking his head and the moment is broken. He starts picking up his shirt and slipping it on. “Of course I do,” he says, and he’s out the door before Chase can reply.

 

 

He sighs as he runs a hand through his hair, trying to fix it in the bathroom mirror. They were on in 15 minutes and he was struggling to keep his shit together. Chase didn’t truly want to be here. Everything seemed off tonight. The lights were too bright, the people too loud, the band too irritating, his clothes too uncomfortable, and he was too tired to care about hitting the right cords. Turning his head side to side, he decides his face is good enough when there’s a knock at the door. “Chase, you in there?” A voice, one of his bandmates, calls out from the other side. “We’re on in ten, man.”

“Yeah mate, I’ll be right out,” he shouts back. The voice doesn’t speak up again so Chase assumes he’s gone. He looks back at his reflection and frowns. If he was even just five or six years younger, he’d pull the whole smirk and ‘Hey good looking’ routine. God, when he was younger. He won’t deny he had been a cocky little fucker. Back then he would’ve flashed a smile at anything pretty as long as it meant he could get a possible phone number. He doesn’t blame most of the girls he’s flirted with for turning him down. He would’ve done the same thing.

The man groans, turning on the water and cupping his hands, he washes his face in an attempt to wake himself up. Thinking how he’s way closer to 30 than 20 now isn’t helping. But Jesus, when did THAT happen? Where was all that spunk of how he was never going to grow up? Where was that skateboard riding punk he used to be? Wasn’t this the prime of his life?

“Chase?” The voice shouts again, “What’s the hold up? We’re on in five minutes!”

“Alright!” He shouts and, once again, he doesn’t get a response.

They don’t really need him; his band. He doesn’t even sing much, and when he does it’s only backup. It’s not like they even play at the typical night club. There’s no DJ, multi-color lights, and fast pace music. The club is basically just a bar with a band that plays later in the day. There is a pool table in the back, so there’s that, he guesses. It's typically an all around chill place, boring on slow days.

He wonders how his family’s doing all the way back in New Zealand. Wonders if his mom is trying to make ANOTHER relationship work. He thinks about his little sister, Chloe is still in dance, he knows. She’s so happy when she does her thing on stage, she’s not American Idol just yet, but she’s on her way. He misses them. It’s only now he realizes he hasn’t called or emailed them in almost two weeks. The thought makes his stomach sink further. God, he’s an awful older brother. He makes a mental note to check in tomorrow and try to beg for forgiveness to a 13 year old, no matter how shameful he might have to be about it.

One of the bathroom lights above him starts flickering. Idly, he looks up and watches as it struggles for life a good minute then stays on and stops blinking. It’s something else that’s off around here.

He doesn’t want to, but his mind ends up even drifting to HER. Sometimes he thinks maybe it’s still second nature to him, and if that's the case he needs to learn how to stop it. He wonders how she is, where exactly she is. What she is doing? Is she happy? Is she lonely? Does she have someone not to be lonely? Chase shakes his head, forcefully bringing himself to not go down that train of thought. It didn’t matter. They aren’t together, not anymore. They haven’t spoken to each other in forever. She probably doesn't even remember him. She gets to do what she loves, he has to tell himself. She gets to pursue her dream. It was for the best, he knows it is. He was still just that punk with a skateboard when they were together, too young and stupid to understand how to really treat a girl, he knows that too. He couldn’t give her what she needed, it’s a painful fact, but he knows that is true as well.

What he doesn’t know is why he still feels heartbroken when Kaylee left years ago.

“Chase, are you ready to go? Come on, we don’t have time for this, we’re on!” The voice outside the door yells at him for the third time tonight.

 

Chase doesn’t say anything back this time, just walks out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand there's the chapter. Sorry this took so long. I had spent weeks trying to finish the end of the last chapter, only to realize I had already completed it and uploaded it! So basically I had a major brain fart and started working on this chapter right away. It honestly wouldn't have been so late if it wasn't for that. 
> 
> I also kinda realized this is the only chapter without sex in it somehow. XD 
> 
> So I'm sorry guys, I'll be quicker about uploading. Love you guys and thank you for reading! Please leave a comment about the story if you like. Criticism is wanted too! It makes my day to hear from you guys! 
> 
> Next chapter will be soon!


	5. Wanting and Needing and Ignoring Both

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelby sighs, and it sounds sad and tired, something he hates himself for making her ever sound like. "Fine, I'll stop. But you deserve it too, Ri." He hears her go back to the grill, fliping a five-dollar patty over before it burns. She doesn't pry, doesn't poke, doesn't snap back, no matter how much she wants to.
> 
> He bites the inside of his lip, numbly swirling the wet rag around plate. "Deserve what Shelby?" He asks without looking anywhere from the muggy water in the sink.
> 
> "Happiness, Riley. You deserve happiness."

Riley sighs as he wakes, wrapped in bed sheets that cover his bare chest, shielding him away from the cold. Heating cost too much to use all the time. He makes an incoherent noise as he stretches his legs and spine before rolling onto his side. ‘It can’t be that early,’ He thinks, ‘Maybe I can get another hour in.’ He'd have to rush probably, reduce shower time by ten minutes and time on the track by almost half and skip breakfast too or try to grab an something small before leaving, but if he managed his time wisely he could do it. It's all in the figures and numbers. Shelby is an awesome friend, he's lucky to have her, but there’s only so many times a person will cover for you. Besides he was better than that.

His thoughts are interrupted by something wet against his shoulder. He frowns irritably, shrugging away, “Not now, I’m too tired.” He grumbles, then shuffles away further from the other warm body in bed and buries his face in the pillow. He doesn’t want to exactly do anything yet, he feels too drained. It's been a long couple of weeks and he's never been one to take a break when he needs it, but at this point he's not sure if he can go on much longer without collapsing. He feels a tentative lick on the back of his neck and a nudge to his shoulder, causing an involuntary flinch. Riley grumpily swats the touch away. “I said no.” He informs the other firmly. There’s no way he’s getting up just yet, he was up all night, he was sore, so it’s not happening. As long as he has enough time to eat, get dressed, hit the track down the street from his apartment, and maybe sneak in a quick shower before going to work, it was fine.

A body stretches over him and flops down on top of him, whining loudly, refusing to be ignored. He groans, glaring down at the culprit with little heat, “Fine, fine, I’m up, happy now?” He snarks, only to receive a small yip and a slobbery tongue sliding across his face as an answer. He smacks his best friend on the snout gently, not enjoying the bad kibble breath. The dog, with fur of beautiful black and white, cocks its head to the side at him curiously. Most likely wondering why its human is so weird, Riley supposes. Leaning over, it licks his cheek again, almost like an apology. The blond makes a noise of disgust and quickly wipes at the doggy drool kiss, but he couldn’t fight the small smile on his face. “Get off me, you big lug.” He says affectionately, pushing the sleep-interrupting furball off of him and gets up out of the comfortable bed. 

“I’ll get you your breakfast in a bit Rubik.” He promises her before heading into the bathroom for a shower. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the mutt (he uses the term fondly) sit up on the mattress, tail wagging and staring at him like he hung up the sun in the sky this morning. She always looked at him like that, even when he makes his stupid mistakes. God he loved her for it. She barks triumphantly as he closes the bathroom door. 

His shower was a quick, but hot one and he dries off as fast as he could before getting dressed in a green tank and gray track shorts. Rubik followed him happily into the kitchen, trotting excitedly at his heels. He takes her food out first, pouring the dry dog food into her bowl. He had grimaced when he saw the doggy bowl was empty, no wonder she plied in on him this morning. He sighs when the dish is once again full and Rubik is sticking her nose into the food before Riley could even pull the large bag away. How is it neither of the two have starved to death at this rate? Miracles must do happen.

Grabbing an apple, he manages to multitask of eating it and getting his shoes on at the same time. Once done with the fruit he tosses the core away and stretches his arms upward, bending his back slightly before getting ready to head out the door for his morning exercise. A loud whine has him looking over to the front door. Sitting at the doorway is Rubik, her head tilt to the side, giving him her puppy eyes. He frowns, knowing what she wants. More importantly, knowing he’ll probably give it to her. Rubik looks at him like he just kicked her pup and whines again. Riley groans, cracking under her gaze’s weight at an embarrassing fast rate. “Fine, you can come too.” He gives in. What a shocker. And just like that, Rubik yaps excitedly, tail wagging away.

He has to flat out wrestle her collar on her. Back at the ranch she didn’t really need one. The leash is it’s own struggle, but soon they’re out the door and making their way to the track. When Rubik takes the fifth opportunity to either pee on something or sniff another animal’s butt, Riley realizes he would’ve probably done better off going alone, but it's too late to turn back now. He sighs, because there's not much he can do but tug the leash and lead her away from the trash on the edge of the sidewalk that has caught her attention. He can't blame her. She's a country girl at heart, used to running around open fields and spooking farm animals. What place does she have in a big city like this? 'Like a fish out of water,' he muses, crossing the road when the corner street sign tells him to by flashing a green pedestrian walking. He has the right away now, but a car still honks at him to hurry up so it can go. Here it's a place where it's loud and fast pace, not slow and peaceful. Here the buildings are giants above you, gray and made brick by brick, pressed together and not miles apart. To humor himself he tries to imagine his brother or Ma in a place like this. They'd be so lost and overwhelmed it'd be amusing. To him, the city was where he belonged. Not thinking less of where he grew up of course. The barn, their little house they painted themselves, the ranch; they're all things he holds in his heart, kept safe like treasures. But coming to the city was like coming to a home he never knew he had. It felt right. Everything was so much brighter at night, faster in the day, and there was just so much of it to explore and discover. It had sent adrenaline and curious excitement running through his blood the first week he was here. He never regretted the decision of moving, he just gets a bit of homesickness sometimes. It's healthy to miss your family and a life you left behind. Besides, as much as he goes on and on about how he never belonged on the ranch, he thinks maybe deep down he is a bit of a country boy himself.

When they get to the fenced in track area, Riley lets Rubik off her leash, hoping to whatever being up there in the sky she did not poop anywhere. While she was preoccupied with the new surroundings he gets to work on stretching, because he is not pulling a muscle today, before hitting the track. Maybe it was going to be an okay day after all.

 

 

Today has not been a good day. By far it’s not. Fast food has it’s bad days, then it has it’s terrible days. It started with dragging Rubik back home and rushing to get ready, which was more of a hassle than it should've been. He had forgotten to do the laundry again this week, leaving him to dig into the back of his drawers for something to wear. He ends up going with hand-me-down jeans, a green polo he's had since high school, and a old green and navy blue striped sweater-jacket that no one needs to know he sneaked from his mother's closet years ago. The day turns worse when he realizes he forgot to get gas for his moped so he ended up having to call Tyler to pick him up to take him to work.

So the day wasn't going as planned, but it's fine. He still smiles when a red jeep pulls up in front of him with a certain beaming hispanic. "Hey!" Tyler greets, leaning over to open the door for him when he doesn't have to, but it's Tyler so of course he does.

"Hey." He says, sliding in the seat, buckling up and closing the door. "How are you?" He leans back in the leather seat, getting as comfortable as one can get in a jeep. Looking over at the driver, who's still all smiles and bright brown eyes, he's grateful to have amazing friends even if they are only two humans working minimum wage and a dog.

"Good!" Tyler chirps, grinning. He pulls the shift out of park and starts to drive away. "Oh! Dad sent out an email last night. He says hey and hopes you're taking care of yourself."

Riley rolls his eyes. He doesn't bother defending himself. Nor does he point out the fact that he's technically an adult and doesn't need coddling. He knows Tyler's dad Mr. Navarro, only cares. He changes the subject instead. "Thank you for this by the way, I really appreciate it."

"It's no problem, what are friends for?" Tyler shrugs it off like it's nothing. To him it probably isn’t; he's just happy to help out someone he cares about, that's just how he is. He's good for Shelby; Riley believes, they balance each other out. When he's doing a million things at once with a million other thoughts in his mind, she makes him slow down and take it one at a time. When one of them has their rare moments of insecurities, the other's there to cheer them up fastest than a Ornithomimid. Tyler listens to her rants and monologues when others would just tune her out. She wants to become a paleontologist, and it shows everyday. She has a habit to spout out fact after fact after fact about the things that have long since died. Tyler takes in every word each time, never getting annoyed. Whenever asked, he had said she looks cute when she does it and he likes making her happy. Bashfully adding afterwards that he hopes one day her eyes light up when she looks at him they way they do when she talks about something she loves. If only he say they already do. If only they would just stop tripping around each other and go for it. Honestly, what are they waiting for? "Speaking of friends," Tyler starts, bringing Riley from his thoughts. "Where's your one friend at lately?"

Riley's eyebrows furrow in confusion, not understanding who the other means. "What friend?" He asks.

"Mr. Leather jacket and Tan." Tyler inquires then snickers, adding, "Shelby's nickname not mine." Coming to a red light, he slows down before coming to a stop. They took the long way, Riley finally realizes. Probably on purpose. Tyler turns to him, eyes honest and hopeful, "He used to come around the cafe before we closed and would take you home. If we didn't know any better we'd think you might have a secret boyfriend you weren't telling us about."

Riley blushes, sputters, then frowns. "No. Not a boyfriend. Definitely not that. He's–" Riley starts but suddenly stops, unsure how to end the sentence. What in the world were they? What was Chase Randall to Riley Griffin really? Can you call a person whose dry humped against you –among other things– an acquaintance? And unlike Shelby, Tyler doesn't know of his, ahem, other job. "He's... he's Chase." Riley finishes, growing quiet and looking away at the other side of the vehicle, where a window would be if the jeep had any.

"Chase," Tyler echoes, looking the person in the passenger seat over. He cocks his head slightly in thought before nodding, looking up at the light that hasn't changed from red then back at his friend. The humor leaves his face as his eyes settle on the blond. They are careful... cautious, but bled concern and worry. "Did this ‘Chase’ do anything to hurt you? You know you can talk to me right?"

Riley eyes widen, jerking his head back around at Tyler. "No!" He exclaims, causing the man beside him to startle at his sudden volume. He backtracks, lowering his voice as he clarifies, "No, it's nothing like that. He never did anything to hurt me." He pauses, thinking back to their last interaction a week ago. They haven't seen each other since, Chase no longer coming to his work place or the street corner to pick him up. He subconsciously sinks back further in his leather seat as he remembers how he snapped and yelled at the other before storming out. The hurt in the kiwi's brown eyes as he stared at him with a look of confusion, borderline pleading. Remembering the expression makes Riley's chest tighten, but he pushes it down. He needs to keep his head out of the clouds. "We just had a disagreement is all."

"A disagreement huh? Must have been pretty bad if you're that hurt about it." Tyler says, easing off the brake and driving through the green light. They turn at the next right.

"I'm not really hurt about it," the blond denies quickly. "It's not a big deal." He frowns, looking back out the imaginary window, a sudden slight breeze blowing through his hair.

Tyler poorly attempts to hide a smile, "Right, my bad."

Riley's frown deepens. "I'm not."

"I believe you." Tyler starts snickering.

Riley huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and giving up on trying to win a losing battle.

 

By noon he is completely done with the day. So far he's had to clean off tables a person would think barn animals ate at, had to explain to two girls who kept trying to distract him from working that he was flattered by attention but he didn't swing that way, which got him disgusted looks and no tip (because yeah, that'll obviously teach him), and then ended up getting in an argument with a customer who was trying to make a big enough deal about his order to get a free meal. Long story short it made a scene, and when demanded he get the manager he wasn't sure what to do because Ms. Morgan could be anywhere in the entire museum, so he just went and got Shelby. Fortunately, she had a bit better people skills than him and had managed to work out the problem.

Riley sighs as the man finally leaves, relieved things seem to be calming down as he gazes around the small cafe from behind the register. He feels a tap on his shoulder and looks behind him to find Tyler with one of his dimpled smiles. "If you don't mind washing dishes," he begins, pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen. "We can switch if you want," he offers. Riley thinks he might of kissed the man then and there if he wasn't, obviously yet not technically officially, taken by his best friend. Best friend crushes were off complete limits, it's the way of life.

He nods, a bit of stress lifted off his shoulders. "Thanks Tyler, I owe you one."

"You don't owe me anything," Tyler denies, clasping his shoulder. The taller man rolls his eyes and playfully pushes him towards the kitchen door. "But just so you know I want a red phone case with a T-rex on it for my birthday, not that that has anything to do with anything." He smirks cheekily. Riley gives him 'tell-the-true' look before laughing as he walks into the kitchen.

Heading over to the sink, he grabs a sponge and picks up from where Tyler left off. It's a small process of wash, rinse, and repeat, and he's cleaned at least four plates before Shelby speaks up from the grill. "So where's Mr. Leather jacket and Ta–"

"His name's Chase." Riley answers without looking away from his task.

"Okay fine, then where's Chase?" She asks seemingly innocent enough, setting another patty on the grill. Riley knows better than to trust her whole ‘I know nothing’ act. The sounds of grease fizzling and splashing fills the room along with soft sounds of people enjoying their meals in the background.

"I don't know." He says shortly, placing a newly clean plate on the rack to dry.

He imagines her pursing her lips as she chides, "Riley." It vaguely reminds him when his mother would scold him when he was younger. "What happened?" Her tone is softer now, offering gentleness and comfort.

"We had a fight," he confesses honestly, "He wanted more than sex and I obviously couldn't give it to him. So I left."

"I think you like him," Shelby comments. "Or you're starting to. Why can't you give it a chance?"

"I don't want to." He brushes it off, pretending the reddish brown stain on the plate in his hands is far more important.

"You're afraid," she argues. "Riley it's been years, don't you think you should move on eventually?"

"I am fine Shelby, just drop it."

"But you aren't Riley! You've walked around like some heartbroken, crappy Shakespeare tragedy ever since you and Ivan–"

Riley jerks around to glare at her, fist clinched. Some droplets of soapy water drip onto the floor from the sponge in his closed hand. "Don't say his name!" He shouts, not caring if it causes another scene today. "Just– just drop it Shelbs." He pleads before turning around and trying focus on washing the dishes.

Shelby sighs, and it sounds sad and tired, something he hates himself for making her ever sound like. What jerk does that to their best friend? She shakes her head and flings her hands up in surrender even though he can't see it. "Fine, I'll stop. But you deserve it too, Ri." He hears her go back to the grill, flipping a five-dollar patty over before it burns. She doesn't pry, doesn't poke, doesn't snap back, no matter how much she wants to.

He bites the inside of his lip, numbly swirling the wet sponge around the plate. "Deserve what Shelby?" He asks without looking anywhere from the muggy water in the sink.

"Happiness, Riley. You deserve happiness." She tells him, and doesn't say anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so longer, but I'm finally starting to get back into gear. Here's another chapter that's doesn't even have implied sex! Don't get used to it. ‧__‧
> 
> Things are going to start getting heavier here! Strap in and prepare for the ride.
> 
> Btw, Ornithomimids are the supposedly the fastest dinos around. Just think of an ostrich and you're got a mental image of one.
> 
> Comment and tell me know what you think! It helps and makes my day :D


	6. Knight In Shining Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He loves this man, even still. He loved him and he broke him. Maybe that's why, when Ivan started packing the last bit of his belongings that had hung in the closet into a suitcase, he didn't protest. He helped him pack and walked him to the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Riley met Ivan.

Riley was seventeen when he met him, just some awkward nerd with a brain too big and too curious for his own good at the time. The man had just been hired at the museum, helping with the dig sites to find bones of dinosaurs that had lived millions of years ago. He was gorgeous with his short dark locks and light brown skin that glowed in the summer sun. His brown eyes twinkling with chivalry, understanding, and wisdom beyond his years; as if his mind was ancient even if his body was eighteen. Sometimes he spoke in riddles and poetry, words rolling off his tongue with ease. He was strong and graceful, walking in stride but kept his steps light and soundless. A true gentleman in the mind, a fighter at heart, and with the touch that's firm, practiced and patient, but gentle and sweet. It didn't take Riley long to become smitten, trailing after him like a lost puppy. The man─ Ivan, he soon learns the name, had noticed his affections right away, ever the observant, but only seemed amused and a bit flattered at the attention. He allowed the younger to follow him and ask question after question. Telling the other stories about his homeland and in turn listened to Riley talk about his old life on the ranch. He spoke of his family and his heritage, how he comes from a line of Royal Guard centuries ago that were in service to the royalty of his birth country. Riley had looked down at his hands when Ivan had finished, feeling insecure. All he can remember his bloodline ever doing was watching over fields and taking care of livestock. How could he compete? Something such as a brave knight to a measly farmer? When he told Ivan so, the european chuckled and patted his shoulder good-heartedly. Smiling, he reassured him, "There's nothing to be ashamed about, it's hard work what your family does. You should be proud of where you come from." Riley ducked his head down, failing to hide his own smile, and nodded.

Oh he was so far gone had he knew it.

 

Riley watched from afar when he caught glimpses of Ivan working. They worked in different parts of the museum; Ivan behind the scenes and closed doors, Riley in the cafe. The european had a way with people, Riley noticed. He was always polite and respectful with everyone, even to those under him. He seemed to have a endless supply of patience, but was stern when needed to be. Ivan was a kind soul; the opening doors for others and laying his coat over puddles for older women kind of man. He was like a knight in shining armor from fairytales, almost too good to be true. Riley had a hard time not being a flustered mess around him. Even Shelby was affected, much to Tyler's annoyance. He was a hard worker, always finishing his tasks and constantly trying to better himself. He could also ride a horse, a trivial fact, but Riley, being from the country himself, liked that they had something in common. Ivan knew swordplay and self-defense. It was like this man was MADE for him. He just seemed so perfect to Riley.

Ivan had chuckled bashfully when Riley let it slip how incredible he thought the man was. "I'm not that special, I'm just a bit out of the ordinary." He tried to brush it off. Riley only rolled his eyes. Of course the person who actually is amazing doesn't believe that they are. Always so humble. It made Riley love him even more.

So Riley decided he had two real options. Get over a man with such kalon beauty or risk trying to date him. Since there wasn't any chance of the first one happening, he went with the latter. Except, he quickly realized he didn't know how to flirt with the other man to save his life.

Riley thought it'd be a good idea to ask him to practice self-defense with him. Ivan had blinked oddly at him in bewilderment, but then raised an amused brow and agreed. After work they went back to Ivan's place, the darker haired had a practice mat they could 'fight' on. Riley tossed his shoes off, shrugged off his sweater, got into a defensive stance. And was on his back in two seconds flat. Ivan grinned down at him, triumphant, as he pinned the helpless man down. "I win," he said simply.

Riley huffed, "Yeah yeah." He frowned at the smug person above him, embarrassed at his pathetic-ness. He had hoped to somehow impress the other, but ended up humiliating himself. Taking the opportunity to fawn over the winner, he takes in Ivan's profile. This was the closest they've ever been, the realization makes his heart beat faster. The older male had deep brown eyes, sharp but gentle, the color so the sweetest milk chocolate Riley's ever known. His dark hair was a bit curly, but looked so well kept. Riley wanted to run his fingers through the locks. The man's lips looked soft and the busboy would give anything to find out just how soft they were. He held Riley in a strong, tight grip, but not a painful one.

"You're eyes are pretty." 

The two froze, surprised. Riley felt his heart sky-rocket. He hadn't been the one to say that, Ivan had. Neither of them dared to move even an inch, too afraid they'd break the spell that had fallen over them as they stared at the other. Riley bit his lip, "Yeah?" His eyes subconsciously flickered to the man's lips then back to Ivan's eyes to just catch the other above him do the same. "Yes," Ivan confessed, "They're like little emeralds when they catch the light of the sun. I have always thought they were beautiful." Riley's cheeks scorched red and he feared his heart would beat out of chest. How is the world was it fair for Ivan to say all of that?

"I– thank you. I really like yours too." Riley stuttered. Ivan swallowed and Riley watched the motion. Maybe this is where they'll kiss? All the european had to do was lean down a few more inches and let their lips met. Then Riley would kiss him back. But Ivan just smiled, not his usual amused one, but one of fondness and love, and pulled off of him, offering Riley a hand. The dirty blond couldn't find it in him to be disappointed when their hands lingered as Riley got to his feet. He might just have a shot.

 

They danced around each other for the next few years. Riley had grown out of his boyish looks for the most part, yet to his annoyance still look quite young for his age. He became more at home with his body, less clumsy more attuned to himself. Ivan had filled out more, developed more muscle mass, but kept his main slender frame. He didn't change much, but the looks he sent Riley were more soft with longing undertones. No longer looking at Riley like he was just some kid with a crush, but a love he reciprocated. It made the dirty blond's heart flutter to catch those kind of stares from him.

It was a normal day, sometime in the middle in some week in the middle of some month when something must have changed. Nothing special had happened in a while, so Riley was confused when Ivan had strolled up to him with the brightest smile on his face. He raised a brow at him, silently asking him if he might of hit his head somewhere and had gone insane. "Riley," the man began, taking one of the busboy's hands. Lifting to his lips, he kissed the back of it softly, causing Riley's cheeks to flush. "Are you free tomorrow? There is a movie playing in theaters that Shelby hinted to me you wanted to see."

Riley's eyes widened, taking a minute to find his voice. "Ivan," he bit his lip, nervously continuing, "Are you asking me on a date?"

Ivan smiled knowingly, respectively placing his hands on the others hips. He pretended to ponder the question a moment before nodding. "Yes, I believe I am. Would you like to accompany me to the movies, Riley?" Riley grinned, wrapping his arms around the taller man's shoulders. He felt his heart explode with happiness, the warmth spreading throughout his chest. This was really happening. After chasing the man in his arms for almost two years, one of those years of even having his crush reciprocated, he finally gets his date. "Yes. What else could I say? I really want this, Ivan."

Ivan's smile had grown, eyes warm and loving. "As do I, my prince." He said softly, using the absolutely cheesy pet name he had gave the shorter male who pretends to despise it. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to Riley's forehead before whispering sweet words into the other's pink ear. Riley tried not to turn into a pile of goo then and there, not used to Ivan being so openly and overly affectionate in one sitting. A few feet away by the cafe doors, stood Shelby with a tired smile and keys in her hand. As much as the scene was touching, she was waiting for them to wrap it up so she could lock up and go home. She smelled like sweat and grease and was running on two hours of sleep, but she was a nice friend, so she let the two lovebirds have their moment. 

 

The next year and a half was perfect. Riley had an amazing, loving, and attractive boyfriend to make everyone jealous with, as sickeningly sappy as that sounds. The best part was the other knows how to keep him on his toes, constantly surprising him with little things to brighten his day. Such as bringing him coffee in the morning, walking Rubix for or with him (she really likes him and Riley knew that meant Ivan was a keeper), staying up on the phone with him when he couldn't sleep, reading to him and snuggling with him on the couch when he fell asleep to Ivan's voice, and once in awhile sent him letters about how much he loved him. It was so old fashioned, but made his heart melt. Riley would keep each one in a small box underneath his bed, rereading them whenever he needed a pick me up because of a bad day or was just feeling lonely. It was all like a dream he never wanted to wake up from.

And when they went all the way for the first time, Riley was on cloud nine.

'You're beautiful.' Ivan had whispered to him, laying another sweet kiss to his stomach. He reached up and kissed a perk nipple, swirling his tongue around it before playing with it with his teeth. As he does he massages the dirty blond's strong but slim thighs that trembled under his firm touch. Riley subconsciously arches his chest to the lip work, body as flushed as his face. Ivan moves to the other, doing the same, bringing a whimper from the young man below him.

Even then Ivan was considerate and passionate, making sure to Riley knew he was cherished.

'Do you want me to turn over?' Riley asked, heart slamming against his chest, like it might escape if not for his rib cage. Ivan smiled, soft and warm, leaning down and kissing him for the millionth time that night. 'No,' he whispered, trailing his lips to the other's ear, 'I wish to meet your eyes as I make love to you.' Riley moaned, wanting all that Ivan would give to him.

And then shit hit the fan.

Riley was in tears when he received the call. Ivan had held him in his arms as he shook and cried. It had been his older brother who had broke the news to him. Matt's voice had sounded raspy, like he had been crying as well, but wouldn't admit it.

His mother was sick. Very sick. With an illness she could not recover from. Riley's world had completely shattered. "It's not fair!" He had screamed, frustrated and heartbroken tears streaming down his face. "They already took Pa, wasn't that enough? Why do I have to lose my ma too!?"

Ivan sat on their bed with a look of utter helplessness, a pool of tears collecting in his own eyes, no longer sure what to do. He had tried to comfort the clearly upset man, but was harshly shut out. So he decided to wait for the other to finish letting it all out for trying again. Riley sobbed, fist clenched. "It's not fair," He breathed, shoulders slumping in defeat as all fight left him. Ivan took it as an opportunity to stand and pull him into an embrace. "I know," he whispered, "I know it's not."

 

Everything was tense and harder from then on. After the news really settled in, Riley withdrew within himself, away from Ivan, Shelby, and everyone else. Matt had told him they sold most of the animals. When their mom fell ill they let go what little of farmhands they had since money became tight. Hospital and medication bills cost a pretty penny after all. Matt was a natural farmer and a dedicated hard worker, but he could only do so much. Without much of anything to sell anymore there wasn't much money coming in. Riley gave what he could each week, but he was only a busboy working a little over minimum wage, not to mention he had his own bills to pay. He ended up not going to college. The whole Dino Cafe scenario was only supposed to be a summer job, but universities were expensive even with a scholarship and take up too much time. His mother was the most upset when she found out, most likely because she knew how much his Pa had wanted him to go to college. Despite giving up pretty much his future, it didn't make a lot of difference. Someone needed to start getting money fast.

Ivan and his relationship suffered like everything else. Riley stopped coming to him with his problems. Ivan wasn't sure what Riley needed anymore. They started having fights that led to slammed doors and hurt feelings. Ivan’s job had forced him to take more hours which added more stress, but it at least brought in more cash. Riley was steadily becoming depressed, losing hope and struggling to get out of bed each morning and dreading having to face the day. They knew after weeks of arguing and then ignoring each other something had to eventually give.

 

And give it dd. They had another fight. Was it they're twentieth? Fiftieth? Who kept track anymore. When he found himself shuffling his feet hastily through the city at night did Riley realize he couldn't even remember what it was over. He had stormed out the front door, ignoring Ivan’s protest that he shouldn't just walk away and it was too dangerous to go out so late.

Riley sighed, fighting back the urge to either cry or rip out fists full of his hair. He held himself tighter, trying to keep warm. Maybe he should've grabbed a jacket before stomping away like a three year old who didn't get their way. Rubbing his arms, shivering, he wonders how Ivan puts up with him. As if Ivan could read his mind, as soon as the thought crossed his mind he gets a message from said male, asking where his is to pick him up. At first, Riley thought about not answering out of spite, but he knows he's caused the man enough trouble as it is. So he replied and stuffed his cell in his pants pocket, waiting for Ivan while keeping a mindful eye of a young woman that had been leaning against the side of a building behind him. Maybe he should have told Ivan he was going to be waiting at a different corner.

“Spot’s taken buddy,” She spoke up after a minute or two, “Go find somewhere else to sell yourself.” He turned to look at her in confusion, trying not to seem the little bit of afraid he is. Strangers talking to you on dirty street corners at night with no witnesses around wasn't a good idea. The woman looked older than him, him barely even twenty yet. She was dolled up in makeup, a sinful black dress you didn't need any imagination for what was underneath, three inch heels, and a small purse to match. Riley's eyes widened in realization.

“I– I'm not a prostitute,” He told her, “I’m just waiting for a friend to pick me up and take home.” he explained, flustered at the mere accusation. The woman snorted, pulling a bright blonde strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Should’ve known by the outfit. Grey sweatpants and an ironic science t-shirt don't really scream ‘Screw me now!’” She mused, watching the kid glance down at his old sweats and funny periodic table shirt then back at her. “Too bad though,” She added, red lips curling into a smirk, “You wouldn't do half bad with a face like yours." Riley's cheeks burned as he can figure out what to do with his hands and ends up just stuffing them into his pockets. “I have a boyfriend.”

The woman, she looked to be in her late twenties, raised a brow. "Good for you? I meant you could make it as a hustler, kid. Calm your flat ass, I wasn't hitting on you."

"Oh." Was all Riley could think to say. He looked around praying Ivan would hurry up. He watched as she took a box of cigarettes and lighter out of her small bag. She popped a cancer stick in her mouth, stuffing the rest away and casually lighting her one. The small light illuminated off her face in the dark. For the first time she looks of color, but her eyes seemed dull as if her whole life she had been going through the days but not living in them. Riley noticed for the first time the bags under his eyes and wrinkles of stress. She takes a long drag, inhaling deeply like a starving man to a feast. He's glad they aren't standing very close so he doesn't get second hand smoke. "Isn't it dangerous?" He found himself asking about her 'job'. "There's other ways to get money."

She frowned at him, flickering some of the ash of the bud onto the ground beside her. "It can be at times. You got a pal you can trust?" She took another puff, turning her head to the side as she exhales smoke. He automatically thought of his best friend Shelby, "Yeah?"

"Let them know what you're doing and what nights you're doing it on. Have them on stand by." She took another inhale-exhale of the nicotine sweetness, sighing. "And as for money, I got a regular job too. I'm a store clerk, but when does five bucks an hour pay for anything? Say what you want, but this–" She gestured to herself, to the street corner– "This pays the bills and puts food on the table. And I get laid every night doing it."

Riley bit his lip, thinking his reply over. "Maybe your parents could help? Maybe you could stay with them until you get back on your feet?"

Apparently he didn't think over it enough. The woman scoffed then out right laugh with the amount of bitterness that could kill a man dead. "My parents? Oh sunny boy, why would the people who threw me out onto these streets in the first place help me out? The only thing that'd make them happy is if the door had hit me in the ass on the way out."

Riley winced, recoiling, feeling guilty for obviously striking a nerve. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

The woman's eyes grow sharp, red lipstick painted lips pursed in a glare. "What are you sorry for? Did you throw me out yourself?"

Riley doubled back, shocked at the heat of her gaze and harshness to her words. "Well, no."

"Then don't apologize," she snapped. Riley went to say something in reply, but wised up and promptly shut his mouth. They grew silent after that, atmosphere thick and tense. Riley looked down to his shoes, he didn't mean to upset her. She was a firecracker with a bit of an edge, but she didn't seem too bad as far as street corner strangers go. Plus, talking to her got his mind off worrying about waiting for Ivan to come and get him. "How much do you make?" He asked, anything to re-break the ice.

The woman seemed to calm, relaxing her tense shoulders. "Almost 900." She grumbled, still nursing her cigarette. The little thing was almost gone. Riley's eyes snapped open, mouth agaped. He asked, stunned, "A week?"

"A night." She corrected.

Holy— That was more than what he makes in almost a month. He stared at her as the woman took one that huff before throwing her death stick onto the ground, putting it out with her heel. "What about STDs?" He asked, brows furrowing. That had to be constant risk right?

The woman for hire merely clicked her tongue, pulling out a piece of gum from her bag next and popped it into her mouth to get rid of the after taste the drug left. "Mommy and Daddy never told you about these magical things called condoms? Just as a reassurance you can always have him pull out before he blows his load. It's not rocket science, sunny boy."

"What if they try to cheat you out of money, what then?" He pried, more curious for his own good then anything.

"Have them pay half up front, but I've never had any problems with it so far." The woman sighed, taking a quick check of the time on her cheap flip phone after she dug it out from her purse. He's always wondered how women can fit so much in those things. Shelby had once pulled out a spare shirt she had stuffed in hers when they were in high school. His own mom seemed to have just about everything in hers too; wallet, phone, change purse, dozens of pens, a notepad, mints, snacks, a hankie, etc. It used to boggle his younger mind of where does it all go. Blinking back to himself, he mumbled a lame, "Oh." He frowned, frustrated at himself for getting distracted easily. Lately he thinks about little quirks his mom had– has.

Ivan picked him up a few minutes later, eyeing him for any potential injuries and the woman suspiciously. "Was she bothering you?" He asked as soon as Riley hopped into the passenger seat. Riley shook his head no and Ivan sighed in relief. "Good. God Riley, I had worried you had gotten hurt or worse. Please don't run off like that again." Riley nodded, choked on guilt and feeling his heart flutter at the sincerity of the other's words and the devastated look Ivan sports slumped in the driver's seat. Reaching over to cup his boyfriend's cheek, Riley did something he hasn't in almost two weeks. He kissed him like he'll lose him in any second.

 

That night, when they laid in their bed after making love in so long, he thought back to the street corner. Next to him Ivan was out of it, too tired from the long weeks of stress and extra hours. He had fallen asleep with an arm wrapped protectively around Riley's waist and his lips pressed against the back of the other man's neck. He had been nuzzling the warm skin until he finally lost consciousness to the sandman. Riley internally groaned, wanting to do the same when he can't. He had too many thoughts running through his head to rest. The conversation he shared with the woman not too long ago still buzzed in the back of his mind as he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep.

 

It was a week of them struggling, working out their relationship, and trying not to breakdown did Riley bring his idea up.

"I could not have heard that right." Ivan dropped the plate he was washing into the sink, the glass silverware making a loud thud the blond winced to. When Riley didn't reply, Ivan tensed, anger and hurt flashing in his eyes. He watched as the man had the decency to look ashamed, breaking eye contact to look at the tiled floor. "You are serious." He stated, jaw locking tight. The older man shook his head, trying to keep his cool. "Tell me Riley, has what we do beneath the covers no longer satisfy you?"

Riley's eyes shot up, widened at the taller male. "No!" He exclaimed, shaking his head frantically. "God no. I just– It would bring in more money and you wouldn't have to tear yourself apart working all the time."

"But selling yourself as a slut on the side of the street isn't the answer!" Ivan snapped, losing his last nerve. His hands are folded tight into fist at his sides, trembling. "How on this green earth would you even consider that? You haven't done this before have you?"

"No! I wanted to bring it up with you first." Riley's shoulders slumped in defeat, swallowing a lump of spit down his dry throat. "I just — my mom, my family, oh hell even US need the money. Ivan, we can get second jobs, but we're already an hour of overtime away from keeling over. They're threatening to shut our water off as it is. We need money now, Ivan." Riley voice shook faintly, scared and desperate for something he's not sure of. He sniffled softly, unwanted tears about to fall down his cheeks. Ivan placed a hand on the counter, leaning on it for support. Riley watched him draw back into his mind, who knows what thoughts are running through his brain. Minutes passed and the man had yet to say a word. Riley never wanted the floor to swallow him up more than he does now. God he was stupid, why did he bring this up? Weren't they having problems with their relationship as it is?

The money; he tried to reason with himself. They have bills to pay. His family needs some cash for the farm. His mom needs the money more than anything. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ivan spoke up. His voice was hard, but hoarse, straining to speak clearly, "No." He looked sternly at the blond. "I am not a very jealous man, Riley, but you are still mine and only mine. As I am yours." Ivan straightened, having found his ground that had been taken out from under his feet. "I don't want anyone to touch you as I would. I don't want anyone to be intimate with you, but me. I couldn't handle you coming home knowing—"

"Okay," Riley cut him off. "Okay, I won't. It– it was just an idea I threw out there. I'm yours Ivan. I'm yours and you're mine. I won't do it, okay? Let's just forget it." He agreed, moving over and wrapping his arms around the other's neck. Ivan held him back, holding him like he was going to lose him.

"Please don't bring it up again." Ivan whispered, he sounded so exhausted and defeated. Riley only nodded, not trusting his voice.

"I hate this," he quivered, "I hate this so much." Ivan sighed silently into the blond's neck.

"Me too."

 

 

A month went by and things got worse, money wise and other ways. They made love as much as they could, kissed and held each other as long as they could, but both felt so emotionally drained and the weight of their financial problems crushing them. Riley knew it was coming, he felt whatever they once had had changed. It wasn't the same anymore; the want was still there, but there wasn't any spark left.

That didn't stop it from hurting. That didn't stop his heart from being torn to pieces when Ivan told him they couldn't go on like this, when Ivan explained they needed to end things. The saddest part is Riley agreed with him. Over the last few weeks he really looked at the man who used to shine so bright. He noticed the constant bags under his lids and muggy look in his eyes. Noticed how he no longer walks in stride, now only drags his feet. How he'd use to smile and smile, radiating such warmth and kindness. He still smiles, but only forced, a brave front for others. Inside he seems like he is giving up. Riley hates himself for it; reducing someone like Ivan to someone like this. He never wanted this to happen.

He loves this man, even still. He loved him and he broke him. Maybe that's why, when Ivan started packing the last bit of his belongings that had hung in the closet into a suitcase, he didn't protest. He helped him pack and walked him to the door. They were selling their place they had moved into years ago, the two of them had to be out by today. The emptiness of their apartment made him feel just as hollow too, the last bit of their things here were pack into the suitcase in Ivan's hand. It was only weeks ago they were in this very living room, snuggled up on the couch watching romcom, murder mysteries, documentaries that were actually interesting, and the occasional Disney movie. How many times have they woke up together and trudged into the bathroom to brush their teeth just so they can kiss without morning breath? In the kitchen they used to eat together, before... they had chaotic schedules and had to work most of the time.

"I guess this is it." He broke the silence, but can't break the tension.

"Yes." Ivan said, looking at his feet.

Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans, Riley offered, "Oh uh, I accidentally grabbed one of your boxes. It's mostly filled with some old clothes and extra utensils. I can send it to you..?" He trailed off. He couldn't bring it to him later, neither of them shared where they were living now.

Ivan; however, shook his head. "It would be too much of a bother to send them across the ocean, you're free to do as you please with it."

Riley jerked, startled with widen eyes and an even wider mouth. "Ocean? What do you mean across the ocean?" 

"I think it's for the best I move back home, Riley. Back to my home country." Ivan explained.

"But that's so far away! You don't have to move away from the entire country just to get away from me!" Riley argued, iron spikes in his stomach.

Ivan's eyebrows shot into his hairline, "No Riley, it's not like that. I just– my mother already found me a job and a place to stay there, bless her. And if I were to be honest, I miss my family, I haven't seen them in forever." For a moment, he looked like he wanted to reach out and comfort the other, but ultimately reframed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

He watched as Riley draws his arms up, crossing them over his chest. Over the years he's dated the shorter man, he's noticed all the little things he does when he's nervous. Like biting his lip, clicking a pen, or crossing his arms over his chest; a imagery barrier he puts up. He noticed how much the other likes to challenge himself, even if it's something as simple as doing the crosswords in the newspaper in the morning at the table while Ivan himself actually reads the articles. He noticed the twinkle that used to be in his eyes whenever he got excited. Every little quirk or detail he ever learned about Riley he fell in love with. He observed the blond's shoulders, realizing how they trembled ever so slightly now. "Riley," He said gently, setting his suitcase down. He hesitated, but then clasped his hands over the other's shaking biceps.

"It just hit me, you know? It finally really hit me that we're done and now this is the last time I'll ever see you again."

"Oh Riley," Ivan soothed, brushing blond strands out of beautiful green eyes. Riley had to hold back a sob, almost choking on it just to keep it in. They pulled each other close, neither wanting what will come after letting go.

"I'll miss you, miss you so much," Riley muffled against his shoulder.

"I'll miss you too." Ivan admitted, squeezing him, giving the softest of kisses to his golden crown.

An eternity of a minute passed. They pulled away and Riley felt the lost ache in the very depths of his soul. They were the best and worst things to happen to each other.

"Goodbye my pri— goodbye Riley." He bid, picking up his suitcase and turning to open the door.

"Goodbye, Ivan," Riley whispered. He shut the door behind the man after he leaves, leaning against the solid wood as he slid to the floor, head in his hands as the dams in his eyes broke, bringing forth rivers of tears.

 

A week later a check for a larger sum of money than normal is made to the Griffin's Family Ranch.  
It was early in the morning when he stumbled into his home, and when his head hit the pillow, Riley cried himself to sleep feeling disgusting and alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the update took so long, but this one was by far the longest chapter yet, it was like 12 pages. I hope you guys enjoy it anyways and maybe this clears some things up. Feel free to let me know what you think :)


	7. To the Moon and Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the end of it all, he learned she was not a dream, but a dreamer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (PLEASE NOTE: This takes place in the past, when Chase met you-know-who. Thank you.)

He met her when he was eighteen years old, and had only been in America for a few months at the time. 

It was a sunny april morning and he had been cooped up in an old, dusty antique shop. Moana, the sweet older lady who owns the little store, had stepped out, leaving Chase to man the place on his own for a bit. The thing about antique stores though, is that the only real customers you get are the elderly and annoying tourist (who are also usually old.) So when a young and beautiful girl walked through the doors, it’s not the dinging of the bell that as him standing straighter from behind the register. Her short blonde hair bounced ever so slightly as she strolled in, only stopping when she slowed to check out the weird cat figurines. 

He watched her bite her lip, looking over the ancient items on the shelves, seeming hopelessly confused. As she picked up one of the snow globes her eyes flickered over to him, catching him staring. Instead of having the decency to at least look a bit embarrassed, he grinned, sending her a wink. The girl raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not impressed, but then she smiled politely all the same. She set the globe down and walked over to the counter. “Excuse me?” She asked. 

“How may I help a cutie like yourself?” He offered sweely, New Zealand accent thick. 

The stranger pursed her lips, ignoring his flirtation tactic, “I’m looking for something for my mom actually, her birthday is coming up. Do you have any clue on what I should get her?”

He coolly leaned against the counter. “Well, that depends on what type of shopper she is.” He stated. The girl gave him a weird look so he elaborated. “Like how some folks like to decorate their home with their religion, you know the kind of people who have everything in their house with a cross or something on it? Those are easy. Just get them a figurine of an angel or Buddha or whatever goes with their belief. Then there’s the horder who’ll take anything just to say they have it. The sentimental shopper who likes things that reminds them of someone or some memory. Just get them a picture frame and put a picture of your family in it. Then there’s the practical shopper; the one who only ever wants things they’ll actually use. You should probably just get them clothes or a everyday thing like a cooking pan.” He finished. 

When he first started working here, Moana had took pity on him and taught him the secrets of the world of shopping and selling. By that he means she drilled in the basics so he won’t screw up and took him shopping so he’d stop wearing the same black hoodie everyday. 

The girl nodded, seeming to understand. “My mom is definitely the sentimental type. She always talks about how fun she had on the beach with her brother until he moved away.” Chase thought about what she said, scanning around the store. He then smiled and snapped his fingers in an ‘Ah-ha’ moment. Stepping out from behind the counter, he moved to one of the shelves in the back. The girl, he really needed to get her name (and maybe number), followed behind. 

She looked over some Russian Matryoshka dolls and wooden carved animals as they walked. “What about your mom, what was she?” She asked slowly, trying to appear casual. Her curiosity was kinda cute, he decided. 

He paused to pick up a collectible teddy bear in a military uniform up off the floor and set in back on the bottom shelf. Maybe the question did catch him off guard, staring at the bear instead of her as he responded, “She was a take it or toss it kind of woman. If she wanted something, she’d hold onto it tight. If she didn’t, she’d throw it away.” He looked over at her and he saw something flash in her blue eyes, but it’s only there a second until it’s gone. 

“Well,” She said, carefully, “Maybe she just couldn’t see the value in some things.” Chase smiled, genuine, and nodded his head; a silent appreciation for the compliment. He stopped at one shelf full of knick knacks and reached for the top counter. Carefully, he grabbed a small, white, rectangular box and handed it to her. “Here, what do you think?” He asked as she opens it. It’s nothing much, just a seashell necklace, but the girl smiled all the same. 

“Thanks.” 

 

He saw her again later the next day when he was skateboarding in the park. She was idly lounging there on a bench, pretty blonde hair pulled back and a thick hardback book in her lap. He put on a charming smile, rolling his wheels over toward her. He stopped in front of her, gaining her attention as he tips the front edge of his board up and picked it up. “Hey there,” He greeted.

Her brows scrunched in confusion before his face suddenly clicked with her. “Um, hi.” She said back, trying not to sound awkward. She asked with a half-forced smile, “How are you?” 

Chase plopped himself down next to her, his beloved skateboard resting against the bench as he took off his helmet. “All right. It’s a nice day out.” 

“Yeah…” She trailed off, looking back down at what he now can see is a textbook. He leaned his head over a bit, his eyes catching a picture of a galaxy he knows nothing about.

“You like to look at the stars or something?” He asked.

“Something like that, yeah,” She replied, smiling down at her constellation book before looking back up at him cautiously. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Cross my heart.” He swore, drawing a finger over his chest in a ‘x’ motion. 

She bit her lip, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. He only looked at her with innocent curiosity, tilting his head to egg her on. She must have decided he was trustworthy enough, because she sighed, relaxing. “I want to be an astronaut,” she began, “And I know that sounds stupid or crazy or both, but I’m sure it’s what I want. I’ve wanted to go to space since I was a little girl.” She closed the book, bringing it to her chest. Looking down at her shoes, she hugged her book tight. “I like to look at the stars all the time. I hope to visit them for real someday, you know?” 

She turned her gaze back at him, a fierce, confident look in her eyes. Like a blackhole, unstoppable and sucking everything to it. “I’m going to do it. There’s no settling for something else. This─” She held her textbook up, the cover shown to him, “This is it for me.”

Chase nodded, smiling. “Good on ya then,” he encouraged. 

She must not have expected that kind of reaction as she blinked at him oddly, like he had just flown to the moon and back himself. Her lips parted, as if she was going to comment, but stops and only dimpled. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes soften and gleamed in a way Chase thinks she’s grateful. “I’m Kaylee, by the way.” She introduced herself, and Chase mentally did a victory cheer in his head for finally getting her name.

“Chase.” He gave his own, laying of the charm and leaning back more against the bench to play it cool.

Choosing to ignore the obvious flirtatious move and change the subject, she teased, “‘Good on you?’”

Chase chuckled, shrugging off the rejection easily. He’ll get her just yet. “That’s nothing. Did you know a ‘good cunt’ isn’t a wanted compliment here in normal conversation?” 

Kaylee gaped at him, holding a hand over her mouth, “You didn’t.”

“I did and received a slap to the face for it,” Chase laughed.

Kaylee did the same, blue eyes crinkling as her shoulders tremble in her giggles. “I can’t believe you did that!” She exclaimed, setting her book aside. 

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault. You Americans are just weird.” Chase defended, but there was a smile shining on his face. 

She snorted, smiling at him in amusement. “Aren’t you technically American too, though? Since you moved here?”

“Oh,” He blinked in realization then started laughing again. “Right, I guess I am.”

He called it a victory that he brought Kaylee into another fit of her own laughter. 

 

Kaylee was a different kind of girl, Chase had come to learn. She was beautiful, but in a down to earth, passionate sense. After a few pickup lines, constant flowers and persisting, he finally got a date with her. And another. And another. And another. And then Chase lost count. Kaylee liked showing him around, having had grown up here. She also took it upon herself to introduce any american thing he never heard of to him. Mostly he just went along with it because he liked the way she’d light up when watching him try anything new. 

His favorite time they spent together was under the stars. They’d find a secluded area on the outskirts of town where you can see the mass of the night sky as they sit on a blanket stretched out on the ground. He would rest his head in her lap as she listed off constellations and told their stories. When she ever ran out of stories in the sky, she’d just retell the one of his zodiac; Aries, and her own star sign; Sagittarius. They had their phones turned off, tossed carelessly behind them in the grass. It wasn’t like he had any parents to call and tell when he’d be home anyways. They let the world and its troubles fade to the back of their minds, tucked away for their time together, only focusing on the serenade of the nature around them, the dark mystery full of twinkling gems above, and each other’s presence. 

“I’m going to be up there, someday.” She said wistfully, running her fingers through his hair. He nodded his head, fluttering his eyes open to catch a glimpse of the awe in her smile and longing in her eyes. 

“I believe in you,” He whispered. He believe she could do anything she set her mind to. There was something about her, but maybe that was just Kaylee, just the way she had about herself. She made everything bright and possible. Being around her was like flying and never wanting to be grounded again. Kissing her was like galaxies combusting and holding her in his arms was like grasping for the sun. She was a dream he never wanted to awake from. “Tell me about the goat again?” He asked softly. 

She chuckled, “You mean Aries, the ram?”

She started, “Well, it was the first of the twelve zodiacs in the sky, and had the fleece that was sought after by Jason and argonauts. It was important, you see…” 

He closed his eyes again and listened to her story. 

 

For once he let a relationship go slow, at its own pace. He let their connection grow and feelings truly blossom. For once it wasn’t about her curves and showing skin, the length of her hair or chest, but about her sly smiles with peeking dimples and her laugh she hides behind her hand. It was about her happiness and kalon beauty beneath her surface. It was about her, his sun, his dream. When they finally took the next step and jumped off the cliff is wasn’t like anything he felt before. He had kissed down her stomach like she’d point out her favorite stars in the sky. She would gasp, groan, and shudder in ways reminding him of solar systems forming. He held her close like she held her own gravitational pull when he slid inside. As they climax he grips her thighs tight, as if she’d be sucked away from him in a black hole, forever leaving him in the wrecking aftermath. That night, as they lay in each other’s arms, he thinks that if outer space is half as beautiful as her, he’d want just as much to go there as she does. 

 

One day her sunny mood seemed dim. It was their four year anniversary, something they were proud of. He sat perched on the bench they had shared all those years ago in a park not far from the antique shop he still worked at. In his hands, sitting collectively in his lap, was an odd-shaped object wrapped in pretty pink and green tissue paper with poorly placed taping. He had spent all night putting it together, but Kaylee was worth it in his opinion. He smiled down at the gift, reminiscing the years they had been together. This was his longest relationship he’s ever had. It wasn’t always easy, there were fights and bumps and swerves. Kaylee’s parents didn’t approve of her choices, they wanted something realistic, something wearing a monkey suit and holding a briefcase full of business cards and resumes. She would hold his hand tighter for support, but never did waver at their persuasion and pleas, instead stood strong and told them the same thing time and time again. 

‘This is what I want to do.’

‘I can do this.’

It made him fall in love with her more. He admired her for her bravery and determination. She always knew what she wanted, there was never seconds doubts or hesitation. She stuck to her goals and wouldn’t stop until she achieved them. What’s not to hold esteem for? She was so smart, he believed she could do anything she set her mind to. If she said she was going to become an astronaut, then she WAS. He believed in her. 

A shadow looming over him brought him from his thoughts. He looked up at the new figure and grinned when he saw who it was. 

“Hey,” Kaylee smiled, and if he wasn’t so glad to see her, he might have seen that something was wrong with it. 

Jumping to his feet, he wrapped his arms around her. “Hey,” he greeted back, kissing her cheek. “I have something for you!” He handed her the gift before he lost his nerve. He didn’t want to seem too sappy or sentimental, but he had worked a long time on it so he might as well give it to her.

“Oh, thank you, Chase.” Her smile seemed more genuine as she trailed her fingers over the folds of the paper. It faltered as her eyes met his, “But I didn’t get you anything.” Her shoulders slumped and she shuffled to plopped down on the bench. 

Chase followed suit, sitting next to her. He shook his head, still dimpling. “It’s ok,” he reassured her, “You didn’t have to. Just open yours.” He gestured to the present earnestly, if not a little nervously. “I hope you like it.”

Carefully, she tore that the sems of colorful paper, exposing what was hidden inside. She gasped, hand jerking to cover her agaped mouth. She held the made from scratch, model rocket, eyeing every single detail. “Oh Chase,” She breathed, awestruck and shakingly. Turning over, she read the words drawn on the rocket’s side. 

I would go to the moon for you.

She bit her lip, feeling her eyes collect pools. The words echoed in her head over and over again. They were so sweet, so sincere and full of love. He did all of this for her.

“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut to hold back a whimper, causing rivers of teardrops to cascade down her cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Where’s the fire, mate?” He tried to soothe, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and gently rubbing her arm. He wondered what could’ve gotten her so stressed so suddenly. Maybe she had spoke on the phone with one of her parents before meeting up with him?

After a moment she managed to collect herself, pulling out of his embrace when she felt strong enough to. She sighed, sniffling, but wiped at her tear-stained cheeks. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she confessed. “I got accepted into a NASA program for today’s youth. It’s kinda like space college, in a way. It won’t be easy, at all. I’ll have to put everything I have into it and I’ll be up against other people around my age who want to go into space as well, but this is it. Chase, this is my shot, my only shot I’ve got. I─ I can’t stop now.” 

Her boyfriend gave her a million-watt smile. “I’m so proud of you!” He exclaimed, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze while pecking her cheek. “You’ve finally done it, I knew you could.”

She smiled, despite herself, even if it was a bit bleak. “Yeah,” she agreed, “Yeah, I did.” She did feel proud of herself through it all, even with what had happened and what will. There wasn't a way to change that, not after finally all the struggles are paying off. However, her expression turned serious suddenly as her hands clutched onto the rocket tighter without damaging it. "Chase, there's something else I need to say."

"Yeah, what's wrong?" He blinked, confused, as he met her eyes. The change in atmosphere and tensing of the mood didn't go unnoticed as he stared into her baby blues he could look at all day. They were always a beautiful, clear and endless, summer sky. Now they look of thick fog and gray thunderstorms. He had already braced himself without knowing.

"The program is across the country in West Virginia. I... I have two weeks to pack."

She was able to speak without any intones or quivers in her voice, but Chase watched her crumble with his heart as she spoke. It's funny, in a bitter and humorless way, how simple words can so utterly destroy you.

Two weeks isn't much time, but she probably waited to tell him, wanting to enjoy his company like she wouldn't lose it soon as much as she could. He would've done the same. West Virginia wasn't anywhere near California, far from it in reality. He couldn't follow her anyways, he has an okay paying job and is looking into getting another somewhere else as well. He had settled down here in this quiet, friendly little town. He had made his own home and life here, and that's not something he can throw way. Even if he could, Kaylee has a career set in front of her now; something she can work for and not just a dream in her head any longer. She won't be able to hold his hand and snuggle on the couch while she's training to leave earth. He can't call her or send her cute pictures of animals at two am when neither of them can sleep when she's busy floating in the air without a pull to hold her down. She can't stay here; with California, with Amber Beach, with him. The knowledge of what that means is enough to make his chest tighten and tears sting eyes, but he thinks she already felt this way too, already knew how this would be and why, before even telling him her intentions today. Beside him, she had started crying again, the shaking hand that covered her mouth so no broken noise could slip out fell to her lap.

"Tell me to stay," she pleaded, "If you tell me to stay at least once, I will." She promised as she gripped his hand tighter, waiting for him to do so.

Chase shook his head. An ugly part of him; the selfish part who wanted her to never leave, wanted to tell her just that and keep her for himself. But he knew he couldn't do that to her. She wouldn't be happy in the long run, knowing she gave up her chance to prove everyone who told her she couldn't do it wrong. He's supported her, encouraged her, up until this point, and even if it hurts he'll still continue to do so. "I can't let you give up everything you've ever worked for, all of your dreams, for me."

Kaylee sobbed, dropping her head onto his shoulder as his arms coiled around her, giving her a temporary oases. He held her close, held he like this was the last time he ever could. He felt something poke against his ribcage and dolefully realized it was his gift. She was clutching it securely as she clung to him. "Thank you," she whispered into the crook of his neck, he almost didn't hear it.

He's chased after others all his life. Pulled on pigtails, pecked cheeks, winked at flushed faces, and gawked at pretty little things in skirts. He lost count of all the girls, and a few boys, he's dated and slept with. It was fun, it was easy and mostly ended with a smile and another notch under the belt. This was different. This wasn't something a week, a day of just skating around town, a carton of ice cream, and a good lay could fix.

'Oh god, this is what love is,' he finally understood. Squeezing his eyes shut, he buried his face in her neck. He fell in love the moment he saw her and now he has to let her go. His chest twisted and tightened as he silently cried on her shoulder with her, unwilling to pull away just yet.

 

In the end of it all, he learned she was not a dream, but a dreamer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! 
> 
> Here's a Holiday gift for you guys. Thank you all for your patience and support throughout this year. Next chapter is coming New Year's eve! Until then, thanks for reading!  
>  
> 
> NOTES:  
> *Oases isn't just a water area in the middle of a desert, it can also mean a place of peace, safety, or happiness in the midst of trouble or difficulty  
> *Kalon is beauty that is more than skin deep


	8. Sweet Wine and Sinful Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Riley.” Chase breathes shakily. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat, but his mouth had long since gone dry. Don’t tell him Riley… 
> 
> “We needed money and I was out of options.” 
> 
> “Riley.” Chase tries again. He doesn’t want the other to say it. Doesn’t want to hear it. 
> 
> “I didn’t have a choice!” He snaps, voice loud, defensive, scared. Chase jolts back, startled, eyes wide. He watches as the blond grab the bottle of wine and pour himself another shot. The bottle is empty now, a sign that they should stop killing their kidneys for the night. It worries him the way Riley’s grib is shaky. The blond; however, doesn't seem to care as he downs the rest of the alcohol─ something you really shouldn’t do with wine─ then sets his glass away from him so he doesn’t knock it over on accident. Bringing his legs closer to his chest, he whispers, “I didn’t have a choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flashbacks have ended, we're going back to present time now.
> 
> A lot of dialogue here as well as, ugh, feelings.

Couches are great when you just want to lay around and do absolutely nothing. Televisions are great when you need a distraction or noise in the background. Chase sighs as another episode of American Horror Story comes on. He should probably try harder to focus on the show since he is only on season one and there was what, five seasons out? Six? He couldn’t though, his mind too preoccupied. They haven’t talked in almost a month now, but he still replays their last conversation in his mind. The blond beauty that one day strutted into his life then left just as quick has become a constant afterthought for him, much to his wishing it wouldn’t. Small things would seem to serve as a reminder of the man; the color green, vegetables he buys at the store, the women’s clothing sections, warm summer days, cool nights, his motorcycle, sweater vest and khakis, fast food places like Maccas. Or there’s the small comments in his mind he can’t control such as, ‘Riley would like this’, ‘Riley said something about this once’, ‘This would look good on Riley’, or even ‘I wonder what Riley would think of this song.’

In his head he keeps saying they had a fight, but is ‘fight’ the right word for it? There was no explosion, tears, or slamming doors like one would expect. One of them just left and didn’t come back. He didn’t see the problem with what he had said. It wasn’t like he was lying with how he felt, nor did he proclaim his undying love or something. ‘Love’ is a strong word and he isn’t sure he’s exactly in love, per se, just yet. He had been falling, reluctantly and fast, for the blond, but he isn’t quite there. He thinks if it weren’t for the fact they both have had life crap all over them growing up things would be easier. 

Not saying it’ll even happen now, not with the way things are going. The younger man had been pretty persistent with the whole avoiding game he’s been playing. Every night Chase would drive by the street corner they met at, but he was never there. Either he had left before Chase could get there each time or had found somewhere else to whore himself off at altogether. He was completely ticked at first, because all Riley was doing was running away and avoiding the problem instead of talking about like an adult he’s supposed to be. As the weeks passed; however, anger faded and was replaced with worry. Was Riley sick of him now? Was it over for them? What was he thinking about? Where was he? Was he safe? What was he doing right n─

The sound of knocking on his door interrupts his thoughts. He sighs as he slides off the couch and shuffles to the door, unlocking it before pulling it open. The first thing he sees on the other side is the last person he expects. Riley looks up at him awkwardly, maybe because he’s standing on the doorstep belonging to the person he’s had sex then a not-quite-a-fight fight with. Or perhaps because he’s waiting outside an apartment door in the middle of the night dressed in a green crop-top, booty shorts, and those green high heels of his. Hopefully, for both of their sakes, the old lady across the street isn’t sitting out on her porch pretending not to snoop on everyone. Looking over his surprise guest’s shoulder he sees, regretfully, she is. Her wrinkly face crunched up with disgust at them, her strained eyes squinting at them with her glasses that cling to her nose, and her hands resting on her walking cane. Chase curses silently in his head. By tomorrow he’ll not only be known as the creepy foreigner man who keeps to himself, but also some pervert who hires young men to have sex with him by all the elderly in the complex. As long as they keep their gossip to themselves he doesn’t think he’ll mind too much. The keywords: too much.

“So may I come in, or did I waste my time and humiliate myself tonight?” The man on the porch finally speaks up, folding his arms over his chest. 

Chase blinks back at him, old hag long forgotten. “Uh, yeah, come in, mate.” He moves out of the way for Riley to trug in. The guest has enough manners to still remove his shoes by the door and make sure they aren’t a tripping hazard. 

He leads Riley to the couch and tells him to take a seat, claiming the other side of it. “So,” he begins, “You alright?”

“I’m fine.” Is what he gets in return, which is pathetic because it isn’t even trying to sound convincing. The silence that follows doesn’t help the case either. He thinks, considering they were passed paper-thin lies, such utter crap was above them. Apparently not. 

“You look pretty in green, not bullshit, luv.” He quips, choosing to stare at the people on tv instead of them man beside him.

Riley glares at him, but the look is more tired than heated. Chase briefly wonders what has happened since they last spoke to each other, but then wonders if he’s even in a position to care. The blond’s features and shoulders sag after a minute, finally giving up their obvious facade.

“I slept with my high school bully last night.”

Chase whips his head around so fast he’s surprised he didn’t pull something. He gapes, “What?”

Riley looks away, at first he crosses his arms over his chest again, but it feels too weird to do when sitting in his current tense position so he just rest them in his lap instead, fingers intertwining. When that doesn’t work he sighs irritably for being so out of his skin. Bringing his legs up, bending them inward, he turns in his seat so his whole body is facing Chase in a fetal position with his arms resting across his waist and back pressed against the couch arm. He shuffles a bit at first then settles, finally getting comfortable. 

Chase continues to stare at him, eyes wide. “Riley?” He presses. A person can’t just say that and then go cold shoulder on a guy. 

“His name’s Bert. He used to pick on me back in high school; tease me in gym and throw paper balls at me in the halls, that kind of thing. Last night he picked me up. He’s still an asshole, but he’s an asshole that pays well.” He scoffs humorlessly, unable to meet the other’s gaze. “Apparently he’s some big shot track runner now?”

Chase shakes his head, not believing what he’s hearing. “I can't listen to this sober.” He states bitterly and gets up off the couch, heading into the kitchen. Riley’s eyes are glued to his knees, unmoving and seemingly unwilling to say anything else. He waits patiently there, listening to the rustling of cabinets and glassware. 

The kiwi man comes back a few minutes later, a two standard wine glasses and a bottle of Carlo Rossi Rhine in hands. He pours them each a glass and hands one to Riley. Back when he was younger; when he had a skateboard for a motorcycle and a hoodie for a leather jacket, he has more of a beer guy. Actually, he was more of a ‘anything that could give me an experience, get me laid, or get me pissed’ kind of guy, because unlike in the U.S., you could drink in high school back home. Usually the seniors just had to buy it for them, or someone would ask an uncaring adult. Now that he’s older he prefers wine. His mom had joked his taste had just aged with him when he mentioned it to her once. He’ll have to give her a call again sometime this week, he thinks, even if they recently already done so a few days ago. He guesses he just misses her, and Chloe too. Maybe he’ll visit for the holidays like he used to, he can’t remember when he stop coming over for Christmas and New Year’s. It’s not like a plane ticket is cheap, but maybe that’s not a solid excuse. 

“What are you thinking about?” Riley inquires, looking over at him from the edge of his glass as he takes a sip. 

Chase watches the liquid leave its home in the transparent glass and pass the pale lips of the blond, his tan neck bobbing slightly as he swallows. He wonders how they can do this; go from fucking to fighting to ignoring to whatever this is. They’re just sitting here talking and drinking in his living room like old friends, and it’s comfortable enough to thinks it’s natural. “My mom and sis,” he admits, taking a sip of his own drink. “Sometimes I think about them and how they’re doing back in New Zealand.”

“What about your dad?” Comes the expected question.

“They divorced a few years back.” He replies shortly, shifting a bit in his seat on the couch. 

“Do you ever miss him?” Riley asks quietly.

Chase snorts dryly at his glass, “Yeah nah, to be honest he wasn’t much of a dad or a husband to begin with.” He sighs, “I think that’s one of the reasons it broke her heart when I moved so far away.” 

He wishes he was exaggerating. He still remembers the day he left, the way her face shattered when he told her his plans. How she had cried her eyes out as he hugged her at the airport before boarding the plane. She had called him twice every day, sometimes three, for the next month to check up on him. She could have stopped him if she had begged him to not go. She could’ve simply asked him to stay and he would have. If just once she had said ‘Please come home’ over the phone he would’ve packed the very same day. But she never did. When he told her he wanted to come to America, to find a job and live in the states with a fresh start so badly, she didn’t stop him even as tears built in her eyes. She had sat him down instead, looked straight in his eyes and asked, ‘Is this truly what you want? Will you be happy there?’ He had told her yes, he wanted this more than anything. She smiled then, a small sad one as tears ran down her face. ‘Okay,’ she had said. ‘Okay, Chase. I just want you to be happy.’ Maybe that's why he understood when Kaylee...

Moving was harder than he had thought it would be. It wasn’t easy to leave your country on a plane, and as he placed his last box of everything he brought with him inside his apartment, he felt a tremble of panic and excitement when he realized there wasn't any backing out now. It was terrifying; being on your own for the first time, but doing so in a whole other country to boot. The first few weeks were utter madness. He never felt so out of place all at first. Though, even as he looks back now, he still thinks it was worth it. 

“Chase.” Riley murmurs, it sounds like it was meant to be a question, but fell short. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m just some cheap hooker on the side, so I don’t have much right talk about morals and self worth and all of that grand and glory, but I think you did the right thing. Coming to America, I mean. That was really brave of you.” He comments, swirling his drink around in his hand and watching the cool yellow liquid move around in the glass. He takes a drink, silently giving the spotlight to Chase. 

Said man blinks at him, squinting, trying to figure the other out. He takes a drink of his own liquor instead of saying anything. 

“I mean,” Riley starts again when Chase says nothing, “I grew up on a ranch that’s been in the family for generations. My mom lived in the country. My dad owned the property after his father passed away. My brother ended up becoming cowboy 2.0. Everyone was made to live on a farm. It was fun to them, it was something they could be proud of, it means a lot to them. And me? I’m just supposed to go along with it because it was easy enough for them to.” 

“But you didn’t want to?” He asks, resting his head against the back of the couch. 

Riley swallows, shaking his head. “I hated the farm. It wasn’t great to be miles away from everything. It wasn’t fun to feed chickens or pick carrots from the ground. It all was so… so suffocating. I didn’t want to be a cowboy or rancher or whatever. I rather solve a rubix cube than ride a horse.” He laughs breathlessly, bitterly humorous. Or maybe he was just laughing at himself, Chase didn’t know. “My family thought is was weird. They thought maybe I’d change my mind at some point, that it was something that needed time. I mean, I grew up around them and I barely picked up a southern accent. It made me feel like I was inaccurate, like there was something wrong with me. I never fitted in with my own family, how messed up is that?”

Chase reverts his gaze, staring down at his hands. He’s unable to think of anything to say to that, and he’s not too sure cracking some joke to lighten the mood would be appreciated right now. Riley isn’t finished, he seems to be on a roll now and can’t stop. “Kids at school used to call me a hillbilly and say I smelled like horse shit. Because aren’t they fucking clever.” His voice quivers, but there’s anger behind it as he pets his thumb against his half empty glass. “Never had any friends but Shelby, and I only met her senior year.” 

“Did you know, the first time I met her I thought the only reason she was talking to me was because she either wanted me to do her homework or was on some kind of dare? Like, I felt so pathetic about myself I believed there had to be an upperhanded reason for her to even talk to me.” Chase looks back up at him, eyes flickering from Riley’s glass to his murky green irises. When the blond sniffles, Chase takes notice of the tears that are gathering behind those beautiful eyes. “My mom… she’s sick, it’s really bad. We’re one bad business move away from broke. Our products we make on the farm aren’t selling like they used to, not that there’s much to even sell anymore. Matt and what few farm hands that have still stuck around can’t do everything. Even with the scholarship, college was still expensive so I dropped out and tried to find a job, but apparently the only place that thinks you don’t need a college degree to flip burgers is a stupid dino themed cafe in some old museum. Even after that we were barely even making enough to pay rent, let alone help my family. We needed money fast.” 

“Riley,” Chase breathes shakily. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat, but his mouth had long since gone dry. Don’t tell him Riley… 

“We needed money and I was out of options.” 

“Riley,” Chase tries again. He doesn’t want the other to say it. Doesn’t want to hear it. 

“I didn’t have a choice!” He snaps, voice loud, defensive, scared. Chase jolts back, startled, eyes wide. He watches as the blond grab the bottle of wine and pour himself another shot. The bottle is empty now, a sign that they should stop killing their kidneys for the night. It worries him the way Riley’s grib is shaky. The blond; however, doesn't seem to care as he downs the rest of the alcohol─ something you really shouldn’t do with wine─ then sets his glass away from him so he doesn’t knock it over on accident. Bringing his legs closer to his chest, he whispers, “I didn’t have a choice.” 

Chase sets his glass down, the sweet liquor had turned sour to the taste. Leaning back in his seat on the sofa, his head knocks gently against the back of it. He turns to look at Riley, only to find the blond already peeking over at him. He takes in the other then, really looks at him for the first time tonight; his tense shoulders, the dark circles under his tired, teary eyes, the flush of his cheeks from drowning his sorrows in wine, but even still, he looks beautiful. Chase thinks over what he had said, playing over each word. “You said ‘we’,” he recalls, “You said ‘We were barely paying rent.’”

Riley sighs, letting his head fall back against the arm of the cramped couch. “My boyfriend and I.” He explains with a bit of slurred speech, staring up are the poorly painted ceiling. “We were living together at the time.”

“Even when you..?” The dark haired man trailed off.

“No, we broke up before that,” Riley snorts. “Things became overwhelming and he moved back to his home country a few years back. Far, far away from little old me.” There's a small smile dancing across his lips now, albeit a sad one. “I still think about him though. Sometimes. Even if I shouldn't. How could I not, he had been my knight in shining gold armor and Prince Charming all in one. Christ, I was in love with him.”

Chase quirks a brow, “Yeah?”

Riley nods, “Yeah.”

“What was his name?” 

“Ivan,” was all he gave away, peering over at Chase with a playful, drunk grin that too soon slips away. “I don't talk about him though. Makes me sad ‘n’ stuff.” He sits up and crawls over to Chase, movement a bit sluggish as he slides in close to him, enough to rests his head on the taller man's shoulder. Chase feels his breath catch in his throat at the contact, but doesn't push the tipsy blond away and lets him continue. “Shelby thinks I should, talk about it I mean. But– but what does she know anyways. She don't get it, she… She never had anyone like that to lose before now. You know?”

Hesitantly, the kiwi man wraps his arm around him, letting him press closer and share his warmth. “Yeah, I think I do.” He answers, swallowing as his own memories resurface. “I had a girlfriend a few years ago; Kaylee. We dated for a long time until she moved away. She wanted to follow her career and I couldn’t stand in her way.” He rests the side of his head on the other's soft golden locks.

“That’s sad,” Riley murmurs into his old rugby shirt his mom got him back in New Zealand. “Do you miss her?”

“Sometimes,” he replies. “She crosses my mind once in awhile, but I’m finally starting to learn to move on, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good,” Riley amends. He shuffles a bit before resettling again, sighing. “It hurts less now, for me, less than it did before.”

"That's good," Chase echoes his words, "That means you're starting to learn too."

Riley doesn't respond at first, instead he casts his attention to the tv. The flicker that had previously been on had long since gone off and is now playing an episode off a series he's never seen before. American television, he notes, is starting to become much more... open with what they show on the air. It almost reminds him of home. As a woman on the screen starts to strip, Chase's eyes flicker curiously to Riley only to catch a disinterested expression. One might even say bored, unaffected. Which, of course, makes his mind wonder. The green-eyed beauty said he had had a boyfriend, but does the other gender not peak his interest?

"You think too loudly," Riley comments, reaching up to poke his cheek. "Penny for those thoughts?" He requests.

"I– what?" Chase furrows his brows at the odd choice of words.

"What's on your mind," Riley elaborates.

"Oh, uh, are you gay?" Chase asks. Because why not be completely direct, right?

"Am I–" Riley sits up, pulling away from him with the look one gives an idiot. "Am I gay. Chase, I slept with you, several times in fact."

"Yeah I know. I was there on each account, enjoyed every one of them, but do you, you know, not like the other gender?" He pries.

"There's nothing wrong with girls, but no, I feel no sexual or romantic attraction towards them. Never really have." The blond answers, deadpanning. "Is that weird?"

"Yes, well no, but I guess I don't understand, from my view?" He tries to explain, but only receives a raised eyebrow for his efforts. "I mean," he goes on awkwardly, half stumbling over his words. "I've always been bi, I've always liked both so I can't completely understand why or how someone can just not like a gender. But that's them, you know, mate? Who am I to judge or whatever, I have nothing against anyone for what they li– Why are you laughing."

Riley shakes his head as he body vibrates with his laughter. "I can't, you just–" He looks at Chase, sees his dumbfounded expression, and burst out laughing all over again, clutching his stomach as he does. He’s a lot more open with himself when drunk, that’s for sure. When he notices the kiwi start to frown, he holds his hand up, calming down finally. "I'm sorry, it wasn't even that funny, but there was something about how you tried so hard to explain, I couldn't control it."

Chase huffs, folding his arms over his chest and looking away, embarrassed. Rolling his eyes, Riley swings his leg over the other man's lap, slightly startling said male. “Oh come on, don't pout,” he teases sweetly. Bringing his fingers under the older’s chin, he turns Chase’s head until a vibrant pair of brown eyes is staring back at his own. “I was only playing.” He whispers, leaning in closer until their lips brush together. Chase can smell the wine on their breath.

“Riley, I─” He starts, but is interrupted to by a filthy kiss. For a second he's lost in it, not protesting when his bottom lip is nibbled on, but pulls away shortly after. “I didn’t try to get you drunk to get in in your pants.” 

“That’s why this is happening,” Riley tells him, kissing his jaw. He rolls his hips, leaning up to steal another kiss. The two of them groan and as Riley goes to move his mouth away Chase follows suit, smashing their lips together again before the blond could get far. They don’t bother to ask, instead freely explore each other’s mouths. Riley has always tasted sweet, like cinnamon roll coffee and caramel popcorn, not of greasy burgers or ketchup smeared fries he works with all day. He likes it. It oddly fits him, he thinks, as Riley starts torturing his bottom lip again. 

And well, if this is their way of making up, Chase doesn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's! Here's another one, hope you enjoyed!
> 
>  
> 
> Also:  
> *Pissed is kiwi for drunk  
> *In New Zealand, it's legal for teens to drink, but they have to be 18 to actual buy it. Cool huh?  
> *Rugby is their national sport  
> *Also like to point out 'Yeah, nah' is just a indecisive way to say no
> 
> Until next time ;)


	9. Imaginary Coffee and Secret Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t want─” Riley starts, but pauses for a second. Chase watches him swallow thickly and collect his thoughts. He’s never seen Riley so upset before, besides last night. Shakily, the blond continues, “I don’t want to get hurt again. I don’t want -to- hurt someone I love again.”
> 
> “But you don’t love me.” Chase whispers, and yeah, maybe it hurts a little to say even if it’s the same for him. He knows that right now he’s more invested into what they have, but that doesn’t mean the other man doesn’t feel something for him too. He takes note of the way the shoulders of the male next to him drop in defeat and the blond lets out a silent sigh. 
> 
> “I could. I know I could -easily- fall for you.” Riley says quietly, voice shuddering at the end. “God sakes, I already started to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally for filled that oral sex tag. Whoop!

A sense of deja vu hits Riley as he opens his eyes to the man lying next to him. The only difference is the dull ache to his head from a hangover. Chase is still blissfully asleep. His dark hair is messy and all over the place, sticking out at odd ends. He isn’t snoring, thankfully, but his mouth lays open with a dry trail of drool at a lip corner. The sun shining through the window sill makes his skin glow and radiate warmth. The sheets are thrown off of the kiwi man to where only his lower legs are underneath it. Not that Riley’s complaining, but it’s the first time he’s stopped and really looked at the man’s body for the first time. When their clothes get lost from them it’s usually too dark to see, and for once he pays attention to all the physical details that make up Chase Randall. When the other rolls over onto his stomach, Riley breath hitches at what he sees. There, in fine black ink is a tattoo, right smack dab in the center of the kiwi’s lower back. It’s a spiral of sorts, simple in creation, but has more rough edges than curves. Riley idly traces over the pattern with a finger; gently, to not wake the owner of the artwork. Around the spiral is the words, ‘Ka hinga atu he tete-kura - ka hara-mai he tete-kura’, written out in fine, beautiful writing. He doesn’t know what it means, but can appreciate the words all the same. How did he ever overlook this? The tattoo is stunning. It’s unique. It’s well done. It’s… 

It’s unbelievably hot. 

He curses, rolling away and covering his face with his hands. He’s starting to feel himself like it a bit TOO much. Why do these things happen to him? He turns back to the sleeping Chase, glaring. It was all his fault, Riley deems, and he can’t even take responsibility for it. He huffs, frustrated, before a sly grin spreads to his lips. Sitting up, he does his best to carefully roll the male onto his back. He climbs over him, settling between the pair of tan legs. He’ll just have to give his bedmate a wake up call. 

As he takes Chase’s member into his hand, he pauses, realizing what he’s about to do. If he goes through with this, Chase will wake up, hopefully happy. They’ll have to talk and he won’t be able to escape this time. He’ll have to face whatever it is they have between them. Honestly though, leaving hadn’t even crossed his mind. Rediculously not even once. He could right now; stop before he starts, throw on his clothes and go, never even looking back. The other will be none the wiser.

Except he doesn’t want to, not anymore. He can finally admit it to himself. He wants to stay, now and every other day. He wants to wake up and see Chase beside him. He wants to watch Chase stir, blink over at him, then smile at him like the raising sun. He wants to find out if Chase would kiss him despite morning breath. Or pull him closer to cuddle for a few more minutes before they had to get up. Or invite him to share a quick shower. Or ask if he wants anything with his coffee. The thought scares him slightly. He hasn’t had this sort of connection for years and he’s rolling with it as it unfolds. He doesn't know what’s between them exactly; love, lustful attraction, understanding of similar sorrows, etc. Whatever they are building here… he at least wants to see how it goes. No matter how the idea terrifies him. 

When he slept with Burt of all people the night before, it left him a mess. He didn’t mean to even come here, he just did. One minute he was slipping on his pants and ignoring the client’s side remark, the next he was standing on the the dark haired man’s doorstep. His first instinct was to go to Chase. At that point he realized he couldn’t avoid the man or their situation. Not that he ever really could. Chase had always been on his mind, even when they weren’t talking. Whatever they have, he’s stuck with it. He’ll just have to go about it the best way he can. He’s tired of running away. 

Coming out of his thoughts, he notes he must have look absolutely ridiculous. Exactly how long has he been sitting here frozen with a man’s dick in his hand? 

Gritting his teeth, he decides to actually do something with the flesh instead of just staring at it. Leaning down, he presses a kiss to the tip. His hot breath ghosting over Chase’s groin. He runs his tongue over it, getting a taste of something salty and lingering traces of cum from last night. He teases the slit, trying not to smile when he hears a soft gasp above him. Taking it a step further, he goes all in, feeling Chase hit the back of his throat. His own dick twitches as he gives a low hum around to the warm cock in his mouth. The length of it doesn’t bother him, only encourages him to start bobbing his head. He hears Chase groan and feels him lazily buck his hips. Riley places a hand on the other’s tan stomach to keep him more still. He continues his pace and with his other hand he reaches down to Chase’s balls. Gently tugging and squeezing them, he plays with them in his hand.

Chase groans again, only more breathless. He stirs, and for a second Riley wonders if he finally woke up. His question gets an answer when he feels a hand on head, gripping his blond locks without hurting him. “Riley, mate, I─” Chase grunts and bites his lip, unable to form a sentence. The blond takes that as a ticket to continue, moving even faster. Chase stutters out a wanton noise, tightening his grip on hair. He tenses then, and arches his hips forward. It’s the only warning Riley gets before a new warmth fills his mouth, a small white trail escaping passed his lips and trickling down the corner of his mouth. He pulls off, letting Chase’s now limp member smack against his own thigh. Reaching over the bed’s right side, he grabs the box of tissues that had been discarded last night. He jerks out a few hastily, spitting out the contains in his mouth onto them and wiping his jaw. Nothing against Chase, he just wasn’t ever much of a swallower. 

He flops back down onto the bed, letting the box and tissues drop back to the floor. Someone will get them later. Probably. He groans, feeling his hangover worsen with a vengeance. Turning his head to peer over at Chase, he sees said man grinning at him with an afterglow. Riley frowns. 

“Well good morning to you too, sunshine,” Chase cheekily quips. Scooting closer, he snuggles into the blond and presses a peck to his shoulder. 

Riley grumbles, pushing him away grumpily. “Coffee,” he demands. 

The kiwi snorts, but takes pity on the poor man and lets him go. He rolls off the bed, stretching to pop a bone or two. “I take it you don’t like drinking?” He teases, grabbing a clean pair of boxers from his drawers. 

“More like drinking doesn’t like -me-.” Riley whines, burying his head into the pillows. He pulls the sheets over him, hogging them all for himself. “Now go,” he orders. 

Chase laughs, giving a small sarcastic bow even if the blond can’t see it. “Yes sir, your royal bossiness.” he says, making his way out of his bedroom. There’s a swagger in his step as he goes. 

Riley sighs, lifting his head to stare at the doorway Chase left out of. So far so good, he thinks wearily. There’s still a small voice in the back of his head, telling him to run. He feels anxious, so out of his comfort zone. What is he doing? Why can’t he let the man go? 

-Because you’re selfish, the little voice tells him. Because you’re lonely enough to cling to the first person to take interest in you outside of their bed.- 

Riley groans, burying his head in the soft pillow once more. He’s not desperate, he tries to reassure himself. Hadn’t he fought this tooth and nail from the very beginning? Hadn’t he done everything he could to ignore Chase? 

Except, he knows he didn’t really try to fight as hard as he tells himself. 

He wants to stay. He wants to workout whatever they have and build off from it. He wants to hold hands and cuddle up to a cheesy movie and everything else two people do together. He’s so tired of feeling depressed and pathetic. He’s tired of others telling him he is. 

A cheerful tune starts to faintly play, filling the quiet background. Riley smiles. Chase must have turned on a radio somewhere in the apartment. 

Maybe he’s not okay now, but he’s starting to believe that he will be one day. He’s starting to believe Chase isn’t another Ivan. 

 

He hopes. 

 

 

The sound of a blender is what brings him out of bed. Curiously and half dead, he stumbles into the nosy kitchen. He’s wearing one of Chase’s shirts, the smallest he could find in the man’s drawers. He has no idea what the design on it means, but it looks like an old, foreign, punk band he’s never heard of. He doesn’t care, it’s comfortable and that’s enough. He snagged a pair of sweatpants as well, but they’re so long at the legs he can’t even see his feet. Oh well, that just means he’s good without any socks. 

He watches from the entryway of the kitchen as Chase sways to the music as he pours a yellowy-pink liquid he blended into a set of cups. He hears the sound of a toaster and looks over at the counter closest to him. Four pieces of golden brown toast stare back at him from where they popped out. He tries to suppress a smile. 

“I wanted coffee,” he mock complains. 

Chase startles, jerking around to him. The dark haired man grins, holding up a cup of whatever-that-is. “Coffee only helps a hangover by preventing caffeine withdrawal,” he explains, “but it causes dehydration and can make your headache worse. Have a banana-strawberry smoothie instead, mate.” He sets the cups onto the same counter the toaster sits on. “They’ve got water and Vitamin C in them, plus they’re better for you. Sweetened it with a bit of honey too, which will build up any depleted blood sugar levels you've got.” 

Riley cocks a brow, “That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Chase rolls his eyes, but the man is fighting to show how amused he really is. “I work a night club, I know this stuff.” He adds, “Plus, I was a bit of a wild card growing up.”

Riley huffs a laugh, strolling into the kitchen. “And the strawberries?” He asks, hopping up on the counter. ‘Play it cool…’ He mentally reminds himself, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands. 

“They just taste good.” Chase smiles, taking out a set of straws and plunking them into the cups. He pauses, taking in the blond’s attire. “You’re wearing my clothes.” 

Riley slowly straightens, uncrossing his legs as a prickle of anxiety begins to eat at him. “Is that ok?” He glances down at the clothes self-consciously. Did he cross a line? Did he make things weird? He shuffles in his seat. “I just didn’t want to wear dirty clothes and my clothes aren’t exactly appropriate to wear ou─” He had been trying to get off the counter, but ends up slipping and falling. Chase jumps to try to catch him, but he’s too late and only grasps at air. So with a yelp, Riley hits the floor. 

“You okay, luv?” Chase asks, bending down to him. 

Riley hides his burning face in his hands. “I’m fine,” he grumbles, wishing the floor would swallow him whole. He peeks out from his fingers to see Chase trying hard not to snicker above him. He scowls, ears red. “Don’t,” he warns, but Chase is already falling back onto his rear, hanging his head has he burst into laughter. Riley growls, kicking him, but he only laughs harder. 

“Sorry!” He says, calming down when Riley kicks him again. He stifles a snicker, “I’ve just never seen this awkward side of you before.” 

Riley frowns, sitting up, “Is that a bad thing?” 

Chase shakes his head, “Nah bro, you’re fine.” He stands and holds out a hand to help Riley to his own feet. When the blond goes to pull away once they’re standing, Chase tugs him closer. Their chest are only inches from each other. “It’s cute.” He grins, winking. 

Riley pushes him away, cheeks dusting pink. “I want jelly on my toast,” he commands. 

 

 

Having breakfast with someone who’s not a dog is… pleasant, Riley thinks from his seat at the kitchen table. The radio is still playing quietly somewhere around them and Chase causal pulls him into small conversations. The smoothies aren’t bad either. 

“So,” Chase prompts after swallowing a piece of toast. “I was thinking about going to the movies or having dinner at a restaurant tomorrow night. Your thoughts?” 

Riley blinks, setting the toast he was about to bite into down. “As in a date?” 

Chase nods, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, why not?” He tries not to show how nervous he is, but Riley isn’t stupid and Chase is obvious. 

“Don’t you think that’s a little too soon?” The blond frowns. “We just now acknowledged there’s something between us.” He muses, but suddenly his eyes widen in slight panic at a thought, “Wait you acknowledged it too right?” 

“Yeah, I had a while ago,” Chase admits, reassuring the blond. “Don’t you think that’s why we should though? We’ve accepted it and want to pursue it, don’t we?” 

Riley bites the inside of his cheek and looks down at his plate. That is what he wants, but… 

“Do you think we’re ready? Do we both know what we’re getting into?” 

Chase frowns as well, “I think so.” 

“You -think-?” He stresses. Chase only nods, looking like his companion had told him up is down. Riley sighs frustratedly, getting up from his seat. His shift is going to start soon, he needs to at least get his things together. “I’m borrowing your clothes,” He says when he hears Chase following behind him. 

“Wait, Riley, I think we should talk about this more.” Chase presses, as he follows the blond into his bedroom. “Why are you storming off again? Why are you so afraid?”

“I’m not afraid!” Riley snaps, gathering his clothes from off the floor. He frowns over at Chase, “I just think you’re not looking at the whole picture.” 

“Why do you feel the need to analyze everything you feel or about us? Why can’t it,” he makes a vexed sound in the back of his throat and a odd motion with his hands, “Why can’t you just let it be?” 

The other stops and scowls at him, “It’s not that simple!”

Chase returns the expression and crosses his arms over his chest. “It is ‘that simple.’” 

Riley rolls his eyes, much to Chase’s distaste. “You don’t understand. We can’t just walk into this whole situation blind! There are certain factors we need to take into account here. Where we stand with one another, our jobs, our chemistry and compatibility, our circumstances, our major differences, and the likelihood of us staying together. Maybe you’re okay with me sleeping with others for money now─ which you aren’t actually completely okay with and that is ridiculous, because you don’t have any right to be─ you might not be later on down the road. Feelings change, people change, circumstances change. And in the end, you’d just get hurt.”

Chase takes a step toward, but doesn’t reach out to him. “Geez, mate. You sound like a relationship textbook I’d let collect dust. We can just let this go at its own pace, trust each other. We’ve gotten this far right? We get along most of the time, our jobs haven’t actually been a problem yet, and I don’t see how a guy can willing have sex with someone multiple times then claim not to have any chemistry with them.” 

He sighs, leveling the blond with a annoyed, yet determined look. “And I get it okay, breaking up sucks, mate. I mean I pretty sure I’ve had more relationships then I do fingers and toes, and I’ve got all 20 of them. Some end badly, some end really badly, but some don’t. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. If we get to it.” He amends. “I’m just asking you on a date, not asking for your hand in marriage.”

Riley groans, falling back onto the edge of the bed. He lets his clothes drop back onto the carpet and rubs his face in frustration. “No, Chase, we can’t just wait to deal with our problems. Our situation is complicated, how we met was complicated, -we’re- complicated.”

“But it’s not a problem until it becomes one!” Chase shouts, fist clenched. “Why are you so intent on keeping your distance!?” 

“I just don’t want to mess this up!” Riley exclaims. 

Chase stills, catching the tears pooling in the blond’s stormy green eyes. He forces himself to relax, his shoulders slumping and his hands unraveling. He plops himself down next to Riley. Their knees purposefully knock together gently. “What do you mean?” He asks, voice softer. 

“I don’t want─” Riley starts, but pauses for a second. Chase watches him swallow thickly and collect his thoughts. He’s never seen Riley so upset before, besides last night. Shakily, the blond continues, “I don’t want to get hurt again. I don’t want -to- hurt someone I love again.”

“But you don’t love me.” Chase whispers, and yeah, maybe it hurts a little to say even if it’s the same for him. He knows that right now he’s more invested into what they have, but that doesn’t mean the other man doesn’t feel something for him too. He takes note of the way the shoulders of the male next to him drop in defeat and the blond lets out a silent sigh. 

“I could. I know I could -easily- fall for you.” Riley says quietly, voice shuddering at the end. “God sakes, I already started to.”

Chase swallows the lump in his throat. “Me too. It’s the same for me too.” He admits, his eyes flicker from Riley’s pink lips to his pretty green emeralds. The gems soften at his words, staring only at him in a way that makes his heart leap. Calloused fingers find their way to his, their hands entwining. He feels the blond tremble ever so slightly, but he grip is still strong and firm. He grips the hand a squeeze. They fit together like puzzle pieces, he thinks as he leans in. Riley meets him halfway, pressing their lips together in a deep kiss. As if they put everything they have into it. Chase can faintly taste the smoothie and jelly he had on his toast on his lips, but most of all he taste a certain kind of way that only Riley could taste. He wraps his free arm around the other, being him closer. Riley’s practically in his lap. When they break away, it’s only for the need of air. 

“I’m scared and have no idea what to do.” Riley rest his head on his shoulder. He sounds like he’s admitting to the world all of his secrets. 

“We’re on the same boat then.” Chase says, pecking the man’s forehead. He runs a hand through the soft blond locks. “How about we try to keep each other afloat? 

Riley snorts, “God, what do I see in you.” 

Before Chase can respond with something like ‘My natural good looks’, Riley reaches up and kisses him again. The liplock is a more hungry one with sly tongues and nibbling teeth. Only it’s interrupted by Riley’s cell phone. The male curses, but with his flushed cheeks Chase merely finds him cute. 

He scrambles for the phone in his dirty shorts, glaring at the caller ID. “What?” He answers irritably. There’s a frantic voice on the other end, but Chase can’t make out who it is. Riley’s eyes widen, all traces of hazy want gone as the color drains from his face. “Oh god…” He shudders, “No, no!” He jumps up, darting out of the bedroom door. 

Chase runs after him, concerned and utterly confused. “Riley?!” He calls. 

He’s ignored for whoever is one the other end. “Wait slow down! I can’t─ okay okay! I’m on my way now. Just hold on tight! I’ll be there soon!” By the time he hangs up the phone, he’s stumbling out the door. “I’m sorry, I have to go!” Riley glances back at him. “I’ll make this up to you, I promise. Something important just came up.” 

“Riley, What─” 

The door slams shut before he could finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link for image of tattoo (will have to copy and paste): http://www.zealandtattoo.co.nz/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/koru-150x150.jpg
> 
> Translation:  
> ‘Ka hinga atu he tete-kura - ka hara-mai he tete-kura’ : 'As one fern frond dies - one is born to take it's place'
> 
> More on the tattoo will come later on in the story so I didn't go into detail about it here.
> 
> The chapter is up! YES! (/ - ^ . ^ -)/  
> Oh my god, I'm so happy.
> 
> But yeah, GASP, what ever could of happened? I was more lazy with editing this time, but it's 11:30 at night and I'm about to pass out. So sorry for any mistakes. 
> 
> Is this chapter crappy? I'm not sure I like it 100%. 
> 
> Any thoughts?


	10. Elevator Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I love him.”
> 
> Shelby's eyes widen, mouth agape in shock. His aren't far from it either as the realization sinks in. “Holy shit,” his eyes snap back to her. 
> 
> “I'm in love with him.”

The last time Chase sat and waited around for Riley, they hadn’t seen each other in weeks. He’s had enough of the cat and mouse game they’ve been playing. He decides, once he finally gets a day off, he’ll try to find the blond first. There are only so many places the man could be. Chase doesn’t know where he lives, and the street corner is a vagant as it gets, so he swerves his bike around and heads to the last place he can think of.  

Briefly, he wonders why the museum is open so late, but then concludes that he doesn't really care. There’s tons of parking space at least. When he shuffles into the cafe, he zeroes in on the person at the register. They aren’t who he’s looking for, but he’ll take what he can get. The closer he gets to her, the more he realizes how knackered she looks. Her eyes are heavy and far away, with dark circles hanging underneath them. Her clothes are wrinkled as if they were thrown on carelessly, and her hair is in the messiest ponytail he’s ever seen. He can’t help but notice that she seems to be on edge as well. If the small twitches and glances at the clock are anything to go by. 

Did something happen? He wonders, and the very thought of something bad happening to Riley throws his mind into overdrive. Is Riley hurt? Maybe a family member? He leans against the counter, worried. Maybe it’s rude to bug someone who’s clearly distraught, but he isn't really concerned about that at the moment. “You’re Riley’s friend right? Shelby?” 

“Yes,” she offhandedly replies, but she’s not looking at him. Instead she’s pulled out her phone, looking at the lock screen with a tense frown. She takes a deep breath before putting it away. “And you need to at least order something if you plan to talk to employees.” She chides without heat. 

“Fine, Bronto Burger, please.” He waves the meal off, he won’t eat it anyways, even if he still had an appetite. “Have you seen him lately?” He asks, as she writes his order down and hands it over the kitchen counter to some random busboy he’s never seen before. The one who usually works around this time─ Tyler, he remembers Riley telling him, isn’t here either. Maybe they’re off somewhere together? 

“Yeah, I have.” Shelby grumbles irritably, her face scrunched in discomfort. She’s distracted, not even giving Chase a moment's glance. It throws him off slightly. From what he knows of her and how little they’ve interacted, she’s usually polite and friendly. Now she’s giving him some kind of third degree and he’s not sure what to do with it. 

“Where has he been? Is he okay?” He pries still. He watches her check her cell phone again and takes note of how her shoulders slump at what she must see. Or maybe it’s what she doesn’t. No new messages, or no new tweets, updates, or snaps? 

She looks up at him then and the glare he receives makes him freeze. He’s a grown ass man, but the intensity of the woman’s stare is enough to force an army to its knees. He involuntarily gulps, but a second later her glower falters and she sighs. “He’s fine,” she answers, “he and Tyler just aren't answering their phones, even though  _ some _ people would like to know if they're okay.” 

Shelby grabs his meal that’s been shoved in a takeaways bag off the counter behind her. As she’s checking to make sure the meal’s correct, he wonders once again what is going on. “Here you go,” she says, handing him his food in exchange for the change he dug out of his wallet. 

She checks her cell again, but instead of tucking it away like the last time, she types out a quick message before sending it. For a split second he thinks her mood will brighten at least a bit now. After all, she was waiting around for a text or something right? Except, now she seems more distressed and frustrated than before. 

Chase watches as she leaves the cash register and moves to clean up a dirty table. She piles up the plates left behind and sets whatever trash there is on top of them, but her hold is shaky. She picks them up only to lose her grip and they begin to slip through her hold. With a cry of startlement she scrambles to grab at the plates, but each one shadders onto the floor. Shelby curses, dropping to her knees to pick up the mess of sharded glass. When he catches the shimmer of tears collecting in her eyes, he can no longer simply stand by and watch. 

“Ok, enough already,” he says, kneeling down and grasping her wrist. He starts to lift her up, and Shelby lets the pieces in her hands drop without a fight. He pulls her to her feet and leads her away from the hazard. Pulling out a chair for her, she sits down with him taking a seat beside her. “Are you okay?” He asks. 

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. “Riley’s fine,” she states simply. 

“Well that’s great,” he responds, “but I was asking if you are.” 

Shelby blinks in surprise. “Oh, I’m f─” She stops abruptly, cutting herself off as she hangs her head. It must have been out of reflex for her to say that, he thinks. To brush off her concerns in favor of others. “Actually,” she mutters, “no, I don’t think I am fine.” Her shoulders hang defeated, a worrying frown settled upon her lips as she looks away. 

“What’s wrong?” He inquires. 

She sighs, deep and tired. “It’s Riley, I mean it's not  _ Riley _ but─ it’s his mother,” she begins. “She’s in the hospital. It’s… really bad.” She fiddles with her hands, still not looking at him. 

Chase feels the world come to a complete stop around him, his stomach twisting in knots. He has to swallow down the uncanny sense of dread that rises in his throat. It's not about him right now, he reminds himself as he stares at the poor young woman in front of him who has obviously had better days. He hesitates, not sure how to comfort her. Does she even remember his name? 

“What happened?” He tries. 

She finally peers up at him with mournful brown eyes. “Riley got a call a few days ago. His mother had a stroke. She’s been in the hospital since.” She starts tearing but again, even if she tries to fight it. “They… don't think she's going to make it.” 

“What do you mean?” He doesn’t really want to know, doesn't need an explanation but it looks like she needs to share it with someone. 

“She's been fighting for so long, I don't think she has the strength anymore. She's had them before, over the years, this is her… third stroke, I think? She's so weak and hasn't shown signs of–” Shelby starts to get choke up, she can't continue. “I'm sorry, I can't,” she shakes her head, wiping her eyes. “Riley's so devastated, obviously. I don't think he's left the hospital since he got there. Tyler took the week off to be with him. We've been taking him changes of clothes and food. Tyler's over there now, but someone had to stay here. We don't have many workers as it is and I'm not even sure Riley has talked to Ms. Morgan, our boss. God, everything is a mess.” 

“Do you need a ride to the hospital? Do you want to go there?” He wants to help her, but this way he'll get to see Riley too. 

Shelby furrows her brows at him before jerking her head towards the dino themed clock on the wall. Chase frowns, “When do you even get off?” 

“Eight o'clock,” she responds. 

It's 7:30. 

“Fuck it,” she says and stands up to start untying her apron. 

  
  


He lets her do the leading once they pass through the front automatic doors of the hospital. She seems to know where to go, with the way she power-walks past the front desk and straight into an available elevator. She selects a level and all but smashes her finger on the 'close doors’ button. Soft music starts to play in the background. The tune carries no words, only an upbeat rhythm Chase finds mildly inappropriate given this is a hospital. He’d rather have silence than a depressing irony. Shelby doesn't seem to like it either. 

Moments later the music stops with a ding Chase almost startles to and they're back to brisk walking down the hallways. Chase never liked hospitals. Once, when he was younger, he broke his arm skateboarding. He remembers the whiteness of the walls and floors of the room he had to sit in. They were painful to look at by the sheer blankness of them. All the rooms smelled of medicine and cleaning products and every few hours greeted either someone somewhere crying, screaming, or both. All Chase had was a broken arm. He just needed an x-ray, cast and a lecture and he was good to go with prescriptions for painkillers in his good hand. To actually spend days here is a nightmare he never wants to experience. 

He doesn't have time to feel too dejected, because soon they're stopping in front of a door. Shelby takes a silent deep breath and opens it. Right away Chase's eyes zoom on to the woman sleeping on the cot. 

She's… beautiful, even when her skin is pale and she's hooked up with wires. The lady, Riley's mother, looks like her younger son in so many ways. He knows now where Riley gets his dirty blond hair and the way his face can hold both softness and maturity. Briefly, his mind flashes back to a dirty street corner, to goosebumps on cold skin and the lost look in pretty green eyes. He remembers the sense of dread and pity he felt, the way Riley didn't look right standing under a dirty streetlamp. 

‘It was all for her,’ he thinks, his gaze shifting over to the two blonds on her right. Out of instinct, his eyes locked onto Riley first. He hasn't looked up to them, or anyone. He only sits there in a hospital chair next to the bed with his shoulders slumped and head downcasted. 

Chase shuffles where he stands at the doorway, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He wants to comfort Riley, maybe place his hand on his shoulder, wrap him up in his arms and murmur how it's going to be okay. He doesn't do any of these things, not yet, even if he wants to. For now he gives Riley some distance. 

“Where's Tyler?” Shelby asks. 

“Downstairs, he went to go get some food from the cafeteria.” The man beside Riley speaks up. Right away Chase can tell he's Riley's older brother, Matt. He looks older, more collected, like he's got a good head on his shoulders. His blond hair is well kept and light blue eyes steeled to be unreadable. He's also a bit intimidating, but maybe that's just Chase's thinking. 

Shelby's attention turns to Riley and she walks over to him. He doesn't react much when she hugs him, only leaning into her. She whispers softly to him, Chase doesn't hear word of it, not that he even tries to. It was between them. The blond sighs, nods, and Shelby pulls away from him. 

“I'm going to collect Tyler.” She announces, pecking Riley on the forehead and giving him another quick hug. She gives Matt one too as she turns to leave. “Keep me posted,” she tells him. 

He pats her back, “Will do. Be careful gettin’ home, Shelby.” 

“I will,” she promises, pulling away. “Take care, Matt.” 

The older brother nods, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans. 

Shelby offers up a small smile before her gaze drifts to Ms. Griffin, brown eyes staring sadly at the woman. She hesitates, for a moment her mouth opens like she's about to say something, but a second later snaps it shut. There's no use in saying anything for just the sake of having something said. So she looks away and heads for the door. Chase panics, not sure if he's even welcomed here without her. Again, as if the woman is somehow telepathic and can home in on his inner panic, she grabs his arm and drags him out of the room with her. 

“Give me your phone,” she instructs, freeing him from her grip as the door shuts behind them. 

“What, why?” 

Shelby rolls her eyes, “I'm going to put my number into it. It'll be easier to keep in touch this way.” 

“Oh,” he supposes that's fair. Digging out his cell from his jacket pocket, he hands it over. “Okay.” 

She types out her number quickly before sending herself a text so she has his number too, just in case. She gives the device back when she's done. “You keep me posted too.” 

The kiwi furrows his brows, confused. Sliding his cell back into his pocket he inquires, “what do you mean?” 

“You're his ride home,” she says candidly, like it's obvious. 

“You mean Riley?” 

She rolls her eyes again, looking less than impressed. “Yes, Riley. Take him home, let him get some rest, put food in him. He needs a break, but he shouldn't be alone right now.” 

Chase frowns, awkwardly stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep from fiddling with the hem of his leather jacket. “I don't think he'd listen to me.” 

Shelby waves his worries off, “Matt will make him if it comes to that, but I think your opinion is more important than you think.” 

Something in her expression shifts then, growing more serious, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “Listen,” she begins, “Riley's a big boy. So I won't give you the 'hurt him and I'll cut your dick off’ speech, but…” she trails off, sighing. “But just take care of him, okay? He deserves someone who will. Especially now. So– so if you're just in it for the butt stuff, nothing else, then just  _ leave _ . Because Riley doesn't need that and, frankly, doesn't deserve it. You can go and get laid anywhere else, but if you stay now, you stay for  _ all _ of him. Even the sad and annoying parts.” 

Chase stares at her, her eyes strong and firm, but they're pleading, hoping. She's a good friend, he thinks, and he's glad Riley's has so many people that care about him. 

Looking away, to the door of Ms. Griffin's room, he flashes back to their night of wine and memories. To everything they shared and cried about. To how it felt to hold Riley in his arms as they fell asleep. His pretty greens and snarky attitude. How soft his golden locks are when he runs his fingers through them. The way he looks in Chase’s clothes and the crinkles by his eyes when he smiles. The way he kisses and flushes. How it felt to find and map out all of his freckles, moles, and curves. How he laughs at Chase's jokes even when they aren't funny. The way he points out flaws in movies and tries to hide how he cries at the sad parts. How he's picky with food and pretends not to see when Chase steals parts of his meals. 

He's turned Chase into a sap, but–

“I love him.” 

Shelby's eyes widen, mouth agape in shock. His aren't far from it either as the realization sinks in. “Holy shit,” his eyes snap back to her, “I'm in love with him.” 

And that's it. Holy shit. When did that happen? How  _ long _ has that been a thing? 

“I can't explain it, don't ask me how, but I am. And I have no idea what that means now because I haven't felt like this in a long time and–” 

He's cut off by a hug that's so forceful he makes an 'uph’ sound when she crashes into him. He freezes in bewilderment at first, before slowly hugging the odd woman back. 

“He's too stubborn for his own good,” she warns him. 

“Believe me, mate. I know. I'm pretty stubborn too, though. We'll figure it out. And… I'll look after him.” 

“You better,” she mock threatens, but he swears there's seriousness in her tone. She's smiling when she finally pulls away, it's a nice change. Chase gives her a lazy smirk back, but on the inside his heart feels like it's beating out of his chest. He said it, out loud in fact. He doesn't know when exactly it happened, maybe it's always been like that and now he's realized– realized and accepted it. There's no going back now. 

He cocks an amused brow, teasing, “'Butt stuff’, huh?” 

Shelby flushes, “Oh, you know what I meant!” She smacks his arm, causing him to laugh. She huffs, “you two are perfect for each other.” 

Chase falters, the tips of his smile dipping. “You really think so?” He asks, trying to play nonchalant. “You think I'm good for him?” 

“Would you have done all of this without being asked or threatened?” 

“Of course, mate.” 

“Then there you go,” she tucks a stray dark strand of hair behind her ear. In her pocket, her cell phone buzzes for the umpteenth time of the night and she takes a second to check it. Looking back to him when she's done, she gives him an apologetic smile. “Take care of him, okay? I have to...” She trails off, pointing the hall in the direction of the elevators. 

Chase nods, dimpling, “I will. Now you go and get your boyfriend.” 

Shelby's cheeks grow dark, the most he's ever seen them. “He's, um, Tyler's not my boyfriend.” 

Chase squints, “you sure?” He could have sworn…

“And this conversation is over. I'm leaving. Bye.” She turns and leaves, Chase never getting another word in. 

Huh. 

 

It's quiet when he returns to the room, the only sound that can be heard is the beats of the heart monitor. It's deafening to the white noise. He doesn't say anything, leaning against the wall next to the door. Since Chase's momentary leave, Riley's still rooted in same spot he'd been in, but his brother has moved in closer, a hand resting on the younger blond’s shoulder. 

Ms. Griffin hasn't changed in the slightest, but at least her chest is still fluttering up and down in a slow rhythm. It's eerie to look at her. She's practically like a doll, dress in a white gown and pretty brushed hair. Unmoving and silent as she lays without a knowledgeable clue to the world. 

“You're Chase, right?” Matt speaks up, forcing him into his sober. Cool blues lock with warm brown. “Riley's  _ friend?”  _

The way he says it sounds as if he might have an idea on the extent of what Riley and his relationship is. Chase gulps involuntarily, but nods. Matt only smiles though. 

“Think you can take 'im home then?” He asks, patting the shoulder his hand had been occupying. 

The query seems to bring Riley out of his trance. His greens hues shoot up to Matt, jolting in his seat. “What? No! I'm not going anywhere!” 

Matt gives him a leveled look that looks too much like a stern parent than older sibling. “You stink. Go home 'n take a shower, get somethin’ to eat that isn't hospital food or filled with grease, get some rest in an actual bed, and then you can come back.” 

“I can't just leave her!” Riley shouts back, getting to his feet so fast his chair would have crashed onto the floor if not for the other catching it. “I'm not going anywhere. I'm not some snot-nosed little kid, you can't boss me around anymore!” 

“You're right, I can't, but you bein’ here ain't gonna magically fix 'er, Ri.” The oldest coaxes, never losing his cool. “She wouldn't want you runnin’ yourself to the ground like this. We all want you to take care of yourself too. She'll be okay, I'll stay with her while you take a break. Everyone's already runnin’ up walls worrying about you as it is.” 

Riley seems to still want to argue, but decides against it. He sighs, tense shoulders deflating in defeat, but when he turns to look at Chase, his eyes are hard and flaring with a cocktail of spiraling emotions. Chase tries to give him his best sympathetic smile. Neither of them have much control in the matter. Despite his efforts, Riley's mood doesn't lift. However, he can see the way his greens soften a little and the creases in his face loosen ever so slightly. It isn’t much, but it’s a start. 

Riley gives his mother’s hand a gentle squeeze and her forehead a brief kiss before they go. He whispers something into her ear, perhaps an ‘I love you’ or ‘I’ll be back soon’, but Chase doesn’t know for sure. Matt pulls him into a hug the second Riley steps away from her. “Get some rest,” he instructs as they pull away, “I’ll call if anything happens.” 

“Okay,” Riley replies quietly, still all too reluctant to leave the room. With one final glance to the lady laying on the cot, he finally lumbers out of the room with Chase in pursuit. 

They walk down the halls with mute tongues, Riley leading the way because Chase still can’t tell his left from right in this place. He uses their silence to look the man in front of him over. Riley’s clothes are wrinkled and dirty, like they’ve been slept in too many times than desired. His hair is messy and unkept, in need of a brush. Chase’s finger twitches at his side, for a short lived moment he entertains the idea of running his fingers through the golden locks, untangling any knots. He reframes all the same. 

They step into the elevator and Riley presses the button that’ll bring them to the main floor. His eyes are glued to his feet, Chase’s eyes glued to him. 

Finally, before the doors even closes, he takes a chance to ask, “How you holding up?” 

Chase half doesn’t expect Riley to answer. Maybe a scowl or a glare if anything. The last thing he sees coming is Riley’s strong resolve crumbling. The blond blinks up at him with wet greens and sniffles and Chase feels his chest tighten at the sight. Riley reaches out to him first, but Chase is the one that pulls him in close. He lets Riley bury his face into his neck, not caring about the coldness of the tears against his skin. 

“Not good,” the other admits, voice quivering. “Definitely not good.”  

Chase holds him tighter and runs his fingers through his soft hair. “Wanna stay over?” 

He rest his chin on the Riley’s shoulder, “Shelby doesn’t think you should be alone right now, but it’s up to you. I can take you home.” 

Riley shakes his head, golden locks tickling the kiwi’s neck. “No,” he mumbles, “your place.” 

“Okay,” Chase says, and the ding of the elevator makes them pull away. They’ve reached their floor. The doors haven’t even opened before Riley’s whipped his tears away, refusing to show the rest of the world vulnerability. His eyes are hard and mossy, reminding Chase of the patrons at Midnight Ride have before ordering their third shot of liquor. 

Riley’s lips dip into a tart frown as the two make their way to Chase’s bike parked outside. 

“I hate the elevator’s music,” he says.

Chase laughs and ushers him into the parking lot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Knackered: means 'tired' in kiwi   
> Takeaways: fast food 
> 
> Hnnn, I'm so sorry this is so overdue. I've rewritten this and edited this chapter until I don't want to look at it anymore. It just doesn't feel right, to be honest. I will finish this story, it's just a slow process. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter though. 
> 
> Chase has finally realized how he feels! Honestly, he was practically smitten at first sight. 
> 
> Anyways, happy holidays everyone! Thank you guys so much for being so patient with me and I absolutely adore any and all feedback! 
> 
> Drop a comment and tell me what you think?
> 
> Until next time.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this for a while. Took me months to write the first chapter namely because I haven't written sex in a long time and I don't believe I am all that great at it. Thank you; however, for reading. :)


End file.
